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sehnsuchts-trunken · 9 months

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Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)

summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so

name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging

this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?

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You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.

For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.

They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.

Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.

"Settle a bet for us, Junior."

Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.

"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.

Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.

"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"

You didn't even flinch.

"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.

"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."

You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.

You counted to five.

"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.

You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.

And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.

...

It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....

Well.

Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.

Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.

When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.

Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.

"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"

You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.

"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."

He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.

"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."

You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.

"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.

"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"

...

The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.

Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.

You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.

And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-

"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"

You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.

"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.

"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"

You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.

"Whatever you want", you nodded.

It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.

"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.

"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."

His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.

Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.

But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.

Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.

He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.

"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---

There.

At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.

You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.

For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.

You wanted him.

With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.

So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.

You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.

Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.

He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?

You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.

Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.

Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.

That made him grin a little.

"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."

He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.

"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.

Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.

That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.

He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.

The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.

Which he did.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.

You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...

Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.

You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.

You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.

But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.

"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."

He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"

You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.

"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.

And then he pulled away completely.

You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.

No.

Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.

He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.

Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.

You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.

One, two.

You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.

Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.

"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.

"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.

Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-

"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"

He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.

At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...

Fuck!

"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-

"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."

He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.

Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.

His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.

His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.

You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -

More.

He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.

Please.

He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.

Bradley.

You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-

pressure.

His thumb on your clit.

You screamed out his name.

Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.

He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.

You blinked once. Twice.

He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.

Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.

"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"

A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?

"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."

"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"

He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.

"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.

"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"

A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.

"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"

You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.

"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."

You could feel his grin against your bare skin.

"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.

Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...

An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.

His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-

He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.

"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.

He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.

"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.

He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.

As always.

"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."

You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.

"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."

And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?

So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.

A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.

"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.

You could have come from that alone.

Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-

"Wait", you panted.

Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.

"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"

Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...

"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.

You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.

So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).

"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."

Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.

"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.

He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.

"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."

He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.

"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"

You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.

"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."

"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."

You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.

"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."

You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.

"Please, Roos-"

He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-

"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."

He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.

His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.

"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.

You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.

Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.

You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.

You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.

"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-

"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.

You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.

"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.

"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."

His smile deepened, but he didn't move.

"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."

You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.

Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.

You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.

So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.

He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.

"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.

But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.

Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.

Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.

"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.

"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."

He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.

Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.

You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.

You were getting impatient again. You needed more.

Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.

He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.

"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.

"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."

His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.

"Good girl", he rasped.

You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.

Good girl.

You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.

You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.

You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.

Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.

But you could barely hear them.

You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.

He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.

You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.

You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.

"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."

He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.

"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."

A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?

"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.

He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.

Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.

He thrust back into you in one swift motion.

And you screamed.

You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.

Only touch, only feel him.

The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.

He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.

You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.

His hand closed around your throat at the same time.

You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.

You clenched around him.

Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.

You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.

You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.

You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.

You never wanted this to end.

You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.

A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.

"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.

"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.

He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.

He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.

You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.

You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.

Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.

That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.

Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.

He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.

You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.

"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.

"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.

"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.

"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."

"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."

"I think of work."

You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.

"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"

Bradley froze.

Bullseye.

"What did you say?"

His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.

"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun #top gun smut #x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

Text

Urban Cowboy - Jake Seresin x Reader

pairing: Jake Seresin x f! reader

warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v, mildly mean!dom Jake, teasing, jealous Jake

word count: 3.2k

The sounds of some 80s pop song echoed throughout the Hard Deck, a cheap colourful strobe light flashed around the room, its rainbow coloured beams striking random bargoers as they began to dance along to whatever was playing. It was new idea your aunt had come up with - doing theme nights at the bar once a month as a way to freshen things up and breathe new life into the military bar scene.

Since you moved here four months ago, you’d gotten familiar with the regulars - there was Bradley Bradshaw, a man far older than he looked, with a penchant for comandeering the piano if the bar needed livening up, Natasha Trace, who had a fiery personality and often kept the other guys in their place, especially when the beers were flowing and they started flirting with unsuspecting patrons, Robert Floyd, the shy backseater who was always polite, tipped well and seemed to be the permanent designated driver on nights out, Reuben Fitch, who stood about a foot taller than you, and always had a witty comeback on hand, just in case, Mickey Garcia, who was sweet, but could talk anyone’s ear off about Star Trek, and Javy Machado, resident score keeper and pool table champion.

Leading the group, was your Aunt Penny’s boyfriend, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. He often would come in, finding a table at the back of the room for his squad before abandoning them to spend the evening at the bar, chatting your aunt up and offering up any excuse to come behind the bar and sneak a hand to her hip or steal a squeeze of her rear. It was sweet the way your aunt and Pete were loved up, like a couple of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

This afternoon, Pete came in at four o’clock sharp, just as he promised to help set up. As he hung a couple of decorations you and your aunt had managed to find online, he turned to you and smiled, watching as you prepped the theme night’s cocktail menu.

“I forgot to tell you, another one of my guys is going to be here tonight. He’s been off training at a different base for the last few months, just landed in this morning. You’ll like him. He’s a firecracker.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying he’s a cocky asshole?”

“I wouldn’t say asshole. He’s just very…confident. I think you’ll like him though.”

“Are you talking about Jake?” Penny piped up as she looked at Pete, watching as he climbed up the step ladder to hang another decoration from the ceiling.

“Yeah, don’t you think they’d hit it off?”

“I think she might hit him.”

“What? No way. Jake’s not that bad.”

Penny scoffed and shook her head, laughing. Holding her hands up in surrender, she walked away, retreating back to the bar to begin making sure all the key ingredients to your drink menu were where they needed to be. You continued to stuff the evening’s special menus into their plastic protective sleeves, shaking your head at Pete’s attempts to try and set you up with someone from his squad. It wasn’t the first time, you’d been on a date with Bradley once before, but found the age gap was too great between the two of you, with Bradley in complete agreement that you were much better suited as friends than lovers, and on a date with Reuben, who, despite efforts between the two of you, there was no chemistry shared there.

As five o’clock approached, you hurried into the back stockroom to change into your themed outfit for the night, pulling your hair out of the velcro rollers that Penny had helped you wrap your hair up into, creating the perfect 80s voluminous curl that would make even Christie Brinkley jealous. Your tight fitting Daisy Duke style shorts accentuated your curves, hugging your thighs and hips in all the right places, your crisp white button down shirt tied just under your bra, showing off your tanned, soft midsection. A pair of mid-sized silver hoop earrings hung from your earlobes to complete the look. Your aunt’s stash of Aqua-Net hairspray was all you needed to finish it off, stepping out the back door to shake your curls out and spray them with enough hairspray to ensure they wouldn’t budge for the night.

You reentered the bar to find Pete’s friends piling in, the other regular patrons all trickling in and getting comfortable as they came through, turning the bar into a sea of cheesy fake mustaches and 80s style Hawaiian shirts, brightly coloured polos and coordinating Bermuda shorts, wigs and legwarmers. The evening was quickly livening up, and you got to work behind the bar with your aunt, pulling pints and mixing drinks, firing off orders left right and center as the bar filled with partygoers.

An hour into the night, Bradley approached the bar, his aviator sunglasses perched atop his chocolate coloured curls, his loud, brightly coloured Hawaiian print shirt buttoned just enough to allow a few sparing curls of chest hair to peek out from the top. He leaned against the bar, smiling at you, his mustache neatly combed to closer resemble a style from the 80s. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was trying to emulate Tom Selleck. You’d seen pictures of Bradley’s dad and Pete from back in the 80s, and recognized the shirt anywhere. It was clear Bradley was dressed identically to his father, and you had to admire the dedication he had to the theme.

“What can I get you, Bradshaw?”

“Hi dollface, I’ll take a Budweiser. And a chance to take you for a spin later?”

“We’ve done this before, Bradley,” you laughed as you cracked the top off the beer bottle and slid it across the counter to him. Bradley shook his head as he sipped the frothy liquid, grinning as he set the bottle down on the counter.

“I didn’t mean you. I’m practicing. I can’t be dressed like this and not use some kind of weird 80s shit to impress a girl, right? I’m just…using you for practice. Did it work?”

“Bradley, why don’t you, I don’t know, just, be yourself?”

“Because tonight I’m not myself. I’m some single 39 year old in the 80s trying to get a date, apparently.”

“Well then, gag me with a spoon, that was gnarly. Try a different line. One that doesn’t begin with “dollface”?”

“Got it, thanks!”

You watched as Bradley sauntered away to go try his luck with a pretty blonde over by the jukebox. You smirked to yourself as you heard Bradley start singing along to Madonna, carrying the tune with an impressive baritone that you weren’t expecting. You knew he could sing, but singing Madonna was a whole new side to him. Turning your back for a moment, you began fixing a drink for yourself, mixing together the ingredients for a Shirley Temple. You looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered blonde man approach the bar counter, his hair slicked back, and a blonde mustache that made poor Bradley’s look unimpressive rested on his upper lip. The most stunning pair of bright green eyes looked at you, and a set of perfectly straight, whitened teeth fresh out of a Colgate commercial flashed a smile at you.

“Hi Darlin’, I’ll take whatever’s on tap.”

“Sure thing,” You nodded, trying hard not to audibly gulp at the adonis of a man standing in front of you.

“Are you new ‘round here?” he drawled, “I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”

“Uh, within the last four months, yeah.” you nodded as you finished pulling a pint of draught for him, the frothy head of the beer perfectly resting in the glass.

“Oh! That’ll explain it. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service, m’am.” He winked, and you felt yourself melt a little at the sight of this human embodiment of a Ken doll flirting with you.

“You’re Jake?”

“Depends who’s askin’, Honey.” His accent was thick and heavy, something straight out of those reruns of The Andy Griffiths Show that your mom made you watch when you were a child.

“I’m Penny’s niece,” you nodded, giving him your name and laughing softly as your cheeks blushed, “I moved down here to help her out with things around here while I try to figure some life things out.”

“I see,” he smirked, sipping his beer, the foam brushing against his mustache as he set the glass down. “And does that list of things you’re figuring out include finding a strong, charming, handsome Southern boy?”

“It might, do you know any?” You quipped, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your own drink, pretending to feign disinterest in the handsome stranger before you.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“That so, hun? Who? Do I know him?”

“Not yet, but I think he sure would like to know you, Darlin’.”

You shook your head, your curls bouncing as you started to laugh, unable to control yourself. Jake was as bold as he was handsome, and you were suddenly realizing what Pete was referring to when he said that Jake was confident. He practically exuded a cocksure confidence from every pore in his body. And while that would normally repulse you and send you heading for the hills, with Jake, it felt different. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, his magnetic charms and graces pulling you in, and your inhibitions wearing down. However, you also knew how to deal with men like this - he was in need of an ego check, and you were just the person for the job.

“Is that right? Well, you tell your little Southern-fried wannabe cowboy of a friend that if he’s interested, he’s going to have to stick around the bar all night. I promised Aunt Penny I’d help her make sure this night went smoothly, and I don’t need a knockoff Dukes of Hazzard cast member distracting me.”

“Wannabe cowboy?” Jake gasped in feigned offence, clutching his chest dramatically as he slipped into an even thicker accent than earlier, “Now Darlin’, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re breakin’ my heart over here. One thing I ain’t is a wannabe cowboy. You know, I used to ride in rodeos as a kid? Was one of the best there was for under 15 year olds, ‘til I decided to join the Navy instead.”

“Oh, so you’re like, a real cowboy then,” you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“S’pose you could say that. Only one real way to find out, ain’t there?”

“Take you to a farm and watch you wrangle cattle on horseback?” you retorted sarcastically.

“You’re funny, I like that.”

“I bet you do.”

Jake leaned in across the bar, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at you, his bright green eyes fixated on your lips as you spoke. His long eyelashes fluttered at you as he eyed you up, practically undressing you with his imagination. You grinned as you gestured to the sign behind you, reading that if you disrespect a lady, you owe everyone a round.

“Watch it, Lieutenant. If you’re not careful, I’ll go ring that bell and you’ll learn a very expensive lesson.”

“Oh, Darlin’, I can guarantee, I ain’t gonna learn anything from it. I’m just dumb enough to do it again. Can’t help myself around a pretty girl like yourself.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you laughed at his relentless attempt. You knew the only reason he persisted was because you were teasing him, but at the same time, you didn’t mind the attention he was giving you. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as broad shouldered, but he was built like a linebacker, with a solid frame and the accent alone was enough to drive you crazy.

It was almost 11 when Jake stopped you again, this time, outside of the stockroom when you’d disappeared back there for more maraschino cherries and pineapple juice. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, causing his pastel-coloured polo shirt to bulge around his biceps. His lips curled up in that annoyingly perfect smile once again as he stood in your path.

“Hey, Honey, need a hand with that?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you shrugged it off, shaking your head as you smirked at him, “You often follow girls into storage rooms?”

“Only the ones worth following.”

“Wow, Lieutenant, with a response like that, it’s a wonder you don’t have a trail of broken hearts following you around.”

“What is your issue, anyway? You got a thing against blondes? Pilots?”

“Please,” you smirked, shaking your head, “I went on a date with Rooster. He’s a pilot.”

“Is it ‘cause I’m from Texas?”

“No, it’s because you’re probably the most arrogant prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of coming across, actually. God, it’s like you think all you have to do is flash that stupid handsome smile and I’ll throw myself at you.”

Jake’s face fell slightly as he raised an eyebrow at you. You could tell he wasn’t used to having a girl put him in his place like this, but his crestfallen gaze was quickly replaced by that shit-eating grin he seemed to never go without sporting.

“Honey, you’re real pretty when you get mean like that.”

“You’re impossible,” you sighed in exasperation.

“But you love it, don’t you?”

Jake closed the gap between the two of you as he spoke, taking a couple steps closer to you. You bit your lip as you hesitated, thinking about the consequences that might follow if you acted on your desires.

Fuck it.

Your hands gripped the fabric of his polo shirt, pulling him down to your height as you crashed your lips into his passionately. You kissed a slow, hot trail up to his ear, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he put his hands on your hips to bring you in as close as possible, his body heat radiating on to you.

“You gonna show me just how good you are, Cowboy?”

“Yes, m’am. I reckon I could show you a better time than any other man in here.”

Jake’s hand slipped down your curves, reaching around to cup your ass cheeks as he hoisted you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around your waist. You quickly discarded the cherries and juice that were in your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Jake’s lips worked their way along your neck, wet, fervent kisses that made your body squirm with pleasure, your arousal growing and burning in your stomach with each second.

“Back door?” He murmured against your neck, his hands keeping a firm hold of your ass.

“Two steps behind me, to the left,” you panted, nodding your head as he sucked on your skin.

It was unseasonably warm for May, the humidity hanging in the air as you left the air conditioned building. Jake pushed you up against the wall, using it as leverage as he quickly reached down to undo your shorts and wiggled them out of the way. He ran two of his thick fingers along the outside of your lace underwear, stroking the dampened fabric as he smirked to himself.

“Someone’s eager, aren’t ya, Darlin’?”

“Just shut up and fuck me, ok?”

“Now, that any way to ask for it?”

A wicked grin appeared on his face as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, stroking at your clit with a feather light touch, just enough to make you whine for more.

“Jake, I swear to fuck, if you don’t take me right now.”

“Shhh, Sugar, don’t want anyone to hear, do ya? Unless you get off on getting caught,” He purred as he coaxed his fingertips inside of your dripping entrance, pumping them into you with precision.

You tossed your head backwards as Jake thrusted his fingers further into you, each movement harder and faster than before. The determined look in his eye alone was almost enough to send you over the edge. This man was hell-bent on making you orgasm, and he was on the right track to get you there within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, s-so close, Jake,” you keened, your fingers gripping his thick blonde hair as he brought you to your climax.

“That’s it, Sugar. Look at you, you’re a mess and I ain’t even started on you yet.”

“J-Jake, please,” you whimpered, coming undone as he fucked his fingers into you at a breakneck pace.

“Speak up, sweetheart, can’t hear ya.”

Your head started to spin as he pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he slammed his hips forwards, shoving his thick cock inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy at the sudden fullness. Trying to be quiet, you secretly thanked your lucky stars that the sounds of Your Love by The Outfield blared throughout the club. Just as the chorus picked up, Jake rocked his hips forwards again, fucking himself into you with enough force to make you feel as though he might blow your back out right then and there.

“That’s it, Sugar, takin’ me so well,” Jake smirked, “What was that you said about bein’ a wannabe cowboy? Bet those other boys can’t fuck you like this, now can they?”

You were practically rendered speechless by Jake’s precise, rhythmic thrusts into your cunt, his masculine grunting and teasing proving enough to throw you back over the edge once again. Your legs began to shake and shudder while he bucked his hips up into you, his eyes full of lust and hunger as he brought you to your second orgasm of the night. Your walls clenched around him tightly, eliciting a low, pornographic moan out of Jake.

Raking your fingers through his hair, tugging on it as you threw your head back, you screamed out his name, louder than you intended. You lost your ability to hold yourself together as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm following close behind yours.

“Fuck, am I good?” He groaned, his eyes pleading for permission.

“On the pill, you’re good,” you panted, nodding quickly as Jake let himself go inside of you, your name falling from his lips like a sacred prayer as he repeated it over and over, praising you.

“Now, how ‘bout letting a strong, handsome Southern boy take you out on a date so he don’t feel so bad about fucking you until you can’t walk a couple hours after meetin’ ya?” He grinned as he readjusted himself and pulled his clothes back up.

“I think I can fit you into my schedule, on one condition.”

“Mhmm? What’s that?”

“Next time, you come wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Deal, Sugar, I’ll even let you wear it.”

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intoanotherworld23 · 1 month

Text

Berry Delicious

Summary: Bradley loves the taste of berries, and you happen to be his favorite dessert

Warnings: mdni 18+, mature content, explicit sexual content, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Joel, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk

A/N: reblogs and comments are highly encouraged and fully appreciated always support your fellow writers! If you wish to be added to my miles teller tag list it’s always open so don’t hesitate to ask! Thanks! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

Tag list for Miles Teller/Bradley Bradshaw: @mak-32 @florencediet @maverick-wingman @khaylin27 @angeeeelinx @allie131313 @phantomxoxo @katieshook02 @alanadetigy @bradleysgirl @acesofspadess @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @classyunknownlover @o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o @mushy-mushroom04 @rosiahills22 @pedrohoe04 @fandom-life-12 @noz4a2 @rossylightwood @itsdesiree86 @sexytholland @spaceygirly1 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @abaker74 @tallrock35 @ondina-granger @blackcatdhisgf @dreaminglandsworld @bangsterz @k-k0129 @roosterschanelslut @ishipit1420 @atarmychick007 @artemissunn @michaelaandthediamonds-blog @adoringsebstan @sydneejean @igotmajordaddyissues @m-rae23 @alana4610 @calsjack

Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Bradley. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.

"I have never seen you cum so much like that before darlin." Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. "You did so good for me baby."

That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn't want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.

"Let me see those pretty eyes of yours." His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.

"Roos." Whining his nickname as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.

"Whadda you need pretty girl?" He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.

Bradley knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.

"Fuck me baby girl look at you." Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That's exactly what he did too.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

"Oh my god." Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Bradley looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.

Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Bradley could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.

"Tastes like berries baby girl." His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.

Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. His mustaches scratching against your skin a shiver running up your spine. Sex was always amazing with Bradley, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.

"Fucked that pretty pussy so good, didn't I?" His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Bradley already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.

"So proud of you my sweet berry." His nickname had you smiling as Bradley pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state.

"I'm not done with you yet though baby girl."

#Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw smut #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #miles teller #miles teller smut #miles teller x reader #Bradley Bradshaw fic #miles teller fic #Bradley Bradshaw blurb #miles teller blurb #miles teller fanfiction #Bradley Bradshaw fanfiction

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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months

Text

I Promised You I’d Never Give Up - Part 4

➪the one where bradley comes home and the two of you finally celebrate your engagement.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, swearing, unprotected sex, pain kink, oral (f receiving), pda, hair pulling, mentions of a sex tape, fingering, multiple orgasms, soft dom bradley, daddy kink...?, more than half of this is just smut lolz....the end...?

Word Count: 7.7k | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Yes…feels so good, Bradley,”

Bradley groaned as he watched the video you and he made the night before his two month deployment. He was painfully hard, and while his hand helped relieve it a bit, nothing compares to you.

“Bradley,” your voice cried through the phone’s speakers. “Touch me, please.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, stroking himself a bit faster and squeezing his eyes shut when the phone landed on the bed and kept recording the sounds of your sweet moans. He was left to imagine your beautiful face and your sinful body in his mind, the sounds you made when you came spurring his own release. “Baby.”

He wished you were there with him so badly. As he painted his hand white with his release, he glanced down at his phone and watched as you ran your finger through the mess he made on you before licking it clean and smiling.

Then the video ended and he was left feeling only half satisfied.

He felt grateful that he had the video on his phone, and a bit bad that you were left with nothing. He smirked to himself as he began cleaning up the evidence of what he did, the email you sent him nearly two months ago flashing in his mind.

I should’ve made you send that video to me before you left. I want you so badly, I can’t even function properly.

He knew you were over-exaggerating a bit, but it was still kinda funny to imagine you not being able to get yourself off when he wasn’t there to do it for you. It also turned him on, thus resulting in him watching the video you made together for the hundredth time since he started this deployment.

He could only imagine you laying on your shared bed, your fingers doing nothing at all to soothe the ache in your core. Then he imagines your fingers in general, and how he put a ring on one of them before he left.

“Bradshaw,” Jake called through the locked door. “You decent? We’re going home tomorrow, I need to pack.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley muttered as he stuffed his phone into his packed bag before unlocking and opening the door. “You really think I’m not aware of the fact that we’re going home in less than twenty hours?”

Jake rolled his eyes as he entered the small room and sat down on his bed. “No, I didn’t think that,” he answered as he pulled his bag out from under the bed frame. “You’ve been all packed up and ready to go for days now. You’re usually the one reminding me.”

“Can you blame me?” Bradley grinned as he sat down on his bed. “You know you miss her just as much as I do.”

Jake nodded and began messily throwing his clothes into the bag. “Just not in the same way,”

Bradley huffed out a laugh and moved to lay down. “Yeah, and you’re lucky that’s the case,” he said and looked over at the blond. “You ever like her as more than a friend, Seresin?”

Jake stopped packing and gave him a weary look, making Bradley’s small smile disappear as he put on a stern look.

“You can tell me,” he pressed. “I won’t get mad.”

“Yeah, right,” Jake snorted and set his bag aside. “Like hell you won’t. You’re so obsessed with Y/n, you’d get mad if Bob was looking at her in a certain way.”

“Nah,” the brunet disagreed as he tucked his hands behind his head. “I’d never get mad at Bob.”

“Just at me,” Jake muttered before sitting up straight. “No. I’ve never liked her as more than a friend. She’s like my sister, and you should know that by now, Rooster.”

Bradley hummed, closing his eyes as he refrained from counting down the minutes until he was back with you. “Just making sure we’re still on the same page here, Hangman,”

“We are,” Jake confirmed, zipping up his poorly packed bag and setting it down on the floor. “When we get back, are you going to let me say hi to her before you drag her back home and do whatever it is that you two do together?”

“No,”

When Bradley added a headshake in, Jake huffed and moved to lay down as well. “Why am I not surprised,”

I can see the dock. Please tell me you’re there.

Bradley hastily typed out the message before sending it to you, looking up as if that would help him figure out where you were in the crowd. The dock couldn’t get closer any slower if it tried, he thought as he looked back down at his phone.

Pretty girl: I’m here, Bradley. Of course I’m here. I missed you so much.

His heart skipped a beat or two as he dropped his bag onto the ground of the carrier deck and replied to you.

I missed you, too. Almost there, baby. I hope you’re ready.

Your instant response had him smirking.

Pretty girl: Been ready for the last two months. Been wet, too. Still am.

He picked his bag back up when the carrier finally reached the dock, and he had to refrain from using his size to his advantage like he didn’t necessarily enjoy doing. Bradley had long since lost sight of Jake as he finally made it off the carrier. He fumbled around with his phone when he stepped onto the dock, bringing it up to his ear after clicking on your contact. “Baby, where are you?” He asked as soon as you answered.

“Made it easy for you,” you answer and he could’ve moaned at how sweet your voice sounded. Sure, he heard your voice in the video, but hearing you in real life, even through a phone call, had his mind going into a frenzy. It was fucking torture that he wasn’t allowed to call you at all this time around. “At the very back, close to the road.”

He actually groaned this time as he moved through the crowd, pressing his phone tightly against his ear. “I’m coming, pretty girl,”

He could practically hear your smirk. “Not yet,” you say. “But you will be soon.”

Before Bradley could moan again, he felt someone grip his shoulder. He turned for a brief second, the sight behind him making him roll his eyes before turning back around and heading towards the far end of the dock. “Jake’s with me, too,”

“Jake! I missed him!” You say excitedly and Bradley once again rolls his eyes. Jake was such a fucking mood killer, it was unfair. This wasn’t the first time the blond had interrupted his time with you. He had nearly walked in on Bradley jerking off more than a few times during the last couple of months, and now he was interrupting his foreplay with you.

“You missed me more,” he said smoothly as Jake kept a firm hold on his shoulder, as if he was a mother guiding her child through a busy store.

“Jesus, Bradshaw, slow down,” Jake called out over the chaos of people around them. “I need a ride.”

Bradley stopped dead in his tracks, making Jake bump into him. “Like fuck you do,” he said, still holding the phone to his ear.

“Come on, man, I said I might need you to drop me off once we got back,” Jake pointed out and Bradley was about to disagree with that until he suddenly remembered the conversation the two of them had a few nights ago. It was right after Jake had nearly walked in on Bradley watching the video, and his head was still swarming with the image of you, he couldn’t be blamed for tuning the other guy out.

“Fuck, you’re right,” he muttered before continuing to walk, ignoring the smirk Jake gave him as he followed closely behind. “We need to drop Jake off, baby. Then we’re going home.”

“God, I can’t wait for you to take me home,” you all but moaned into the phone, and of course the sound went right to Bradley’s dick.

He grunted, glancing back at his…friend? Is that what the two aviators were now? “I’m almost there,”

“I can’t wait,” you say back. “I’m literally shaking.”

Bradley grinned as he finally made it through the swarm of people, and then he was scanning the area for both you and the Bronco. He barely acknowledged Jake as his eyes met yours, and he hung up the phone and was making his way over to you within four strides.

You met him a little less than halfway and jumped into his awaiting arms after he dropped his bag. “Bradley,” you say, relief evident in your voice as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I missed you.”

His lips were on yours shortly after that, and his hands moved to hold your dress down so you didn’t accidentally flash the many people around. Your teeth nipped his lips as you pressed kiss after kiss to them, your hands sliding up and tangling in his slightly longer hair.

He was planning on going and getting it cut when he got back to San Diego, but might hold off on that as your relentless tugging felt even better than before. “Baby,” he mumbled when he pulled away and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “I missed you so fucking much. My girl. My fiancée.” He grabs your hand in his and kisses your finger that held your pretty ring, and it was nearly blinding as it reflected off the sun.

Now that he knew what it was like, he was certain that nothing felt better than having someone to come back to after his deployments, and having that someone be you was making him feel slightly feral.

You grin as he kisses you again, your lips meshing together a bit awkwardly at first before you start to kiss him back. “Bradley,” you sigh against his mouth, pulling away just slightly. “I need…Jake!”

“I need- what?” Bradley barely managed to ask before he felt a light slap on his back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” came Jake’s voice from behind him. “Did you miss me, too?”

You smile at him and move to get down. Bradley helps you steady yourself before you throw yourself at Jake. “Of course I missed you,”

“It’s good to see you,” he says as he returns the hug. The second you stepped away, Bradley was pulling you against his side and pressing kiss after kiss to the top of your head. “And I know, I know. I’m ruining your little reunion, so the quicker we leave, the quicker you can drop me off and the quicker you two can get home.”

“You’re right again, Seresin,” Bradley said as he picked his bag up and tugged you over to the passenger side door of the Bronco. He opens it and kisses you again once you are seated, moving to stand in between your thighs as you pull him closer. His hands grip your waist while yours tangle in his hair, and he knew if you kept this up, he would be sporting a hard on in no time. He groaned as he pulled away. “We gotta go.” He stated, kissing you one last time before closing the door and opening the back one.

Jake pushes past him and hops in the Bronco, grinning at Bradley as he says, “And they say chivalry is dead,”

You turn and look back at him as Bradley throws his bag at Jake before closing the door. “Have you two finally gotten past whatever it was that was between you? Dare I ask, are you two friends?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bradley answers as he gets in on the drivers side.

“We’re working on it,” Jake says and settles back against the seat.

You raise a brow as Bradley takes your hand in his and pulls out of the parking spot, driving a bit over the speed limit in order to get rid of Jake as fast as he could. “I’m really glad you two are finally getting along,” you say as you near Jake’s street. “My best friend and boyfriend are actually becoming friends. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Bradley asks, looking over at you with a smirk.

You match it as you lean over and grip his thigh. “Sorry,” you say. “I meant my best friend and my fiancé.”

“Better,” he murmured and refrained from rolling his eyes at the loud way Jake cleared his throat.

“You guys are too much,” he says and takes off his seatbelt. “Hold off on jumping each other for thirty more seconds, okay? I’ll be gone soon enough.”

You laugh and pull away, much to Bradley’s dismay as he reaches Jake’s house. “There you go, now get out,” he says and you slap his arm.

“Bradley,” you scold as Jake opens the back door and gets out.

“It’s fine. We spent the last two months together,” he says and smiles at you. “I’m sick of the guy, too.”

Bradley glared at him as Jake winks at you before walking into his house. “He’s gone,” you state the obvious and grip his thigh again. “Now don’t make me beg. Take me home.”

He groaned, pulling out of Jake’s driveway then taking your hand again. “But you know I love it when you beg,” he smirked as his thumb spun the ring around your finger. “My fiancée is so needy for me.”

You bring your joined hands up to your mouth, where you gently begin sucking on his index finger. “You have no idea,” you mumble and Bradley was barely able to concentrate on driving as he felt your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger. “I’ve only made myself come twice since you’ve been gone.”

“What?” He asked in shock, looking over at you when he stopped at a red light. His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, his brows furrowing when you let out a needy whine. “You’ve gotten yourself off twice in two months? That’s it?”

You whine again as your face heats up. “They both lasted less than a second each. I can’t make myself feel as good as you do,” you defended yourself. “How many times did you get off?”

“Like, nearly every night,” he grunted, driving again once the light turned green. “Fuck, baby, now I feel bad.”

You laughed, bringing his hand down so it was gripping your thigh. “Don’t,” you wave off. “It was quite eye opening to realize that you were right when you said I wouldn’t be able to forget you were gone once I tried to make myself come without you here to do it for me.”

His smirk grew as his hand slid higher up your thigh. “I’m really glad I was right about that,” he briefly looked over at you, his gaze softening as he noticed the way your face was flushed and your eyes were wide with lust. “You need me, huh?” His quiet question lacked any sort of mockery, and he sounded so genuine.

It had you squeezing your thighs together. “Bradley,”

“I need you, too,” he continued as he turned onto yours and his street. “I need to feel you, right here.” His hand moved under your dress and stroked your lace covered core.

“Oh, God,” you moan and grip his wrist as he begins to softly rub your clit.

Bradley pulled into the driveway and pulled the keys out not even a second later. “Come here, baby,” he rasped, helping you over the center console and letting you settle against his lap. “Come ride my thigh.”

You brace yourself on his lap and place your hands on his shoulders, your fingers digging into his uniform shirt. His hands grab your waist and pull your body right up against his before gently guiding you forward.

The soft, relieved sigh that leaves your mouth had him leaning in and connecting his mouth to yours. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled, rocking your hips against his thigh. “That video doesn’t do you any justice, pretty girl.”

You whine, tangling your hands in his hair. “I wanna see it,” you whisper, moving your body with the help of his hands. “Did you watch it a lot?”

He hummed, nodding before pushing you back a bit and kissing along the tops of your breasts. “I couldn’t stop watching it,” he confessed. You moan and lean back against the steering wheel, making sure, even in your lust filled haze, to not put too much pressure on the middle of it. “You looked so hot, baby, like you do right now.”

You whimper, blindly reaching for his biceps as his hands slide up your back. “Bradley,” you moan, helplessly clenching around nothing as you grind your core against his khaki covered thigh.

“I know, baby,” he cooed, kissing your neck before gently sucking a mark there. You moan a bit louder, reaching one hand down and gripping him through his pants. He groaned against your skin, sliding his hands to rest on the small of your back, where he tugged you forward with a bit more force than last time.

“Feels so good,” you whimper, leaning in and kissing him roughly.

Bradley didn’t really plan on getting you off in the Bronco and in your driveway, where literally any one of your neighbors could walk out of their houses and see you (which is why he didn’t pull your dress down and ravish your tits like he really wanted to - the neighbors did not need to see you in that way). But then you told him you hadn’t been able to make yourself feel good enough to the point of coming without him there.

At first he felt bad, but now he just felt smug and a bit full of himself. He had ruined you for any other guy - not that any other guy would even get a chance with you now - and even ruined you for yourself.

He had made you so needy for him, and that fact had made him painfully hard.

With that being said, he had a lot of making up to do.

He grunted quietly at your words, pulling away from your neck so he could take over the uneven movement of your hips. “Bradley,” you warn in a breathy voice.

“You gonna come?” He rasped, bending his knee a bit so his thigh tightened and gave you a more firm surface.

It was almost comical how quickly he was able to get you off without even actual penetration, and you were a bit embarrassed at the many hours you spent trying to do it to yourself when he was away. Nothing felt better than him, and that was beyond clear at this point.

You just whimper in response and cling onto him with shaky hands. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, kissing your jaw as your movements become a bit more frantic. “Come, sweet girl, you deserve it.”

His words go right through you and you cry out a bit, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to silence your sounds. “Fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as you stop grinding against him. You pull away with a fucked out expression on your face, and Bradley is sure he’s never seen a hotter sight. “Hi.”

He grins and kisses you quickly, smoothing out the fabric of your dress. “Hey,”

You smile back and glance down at the damp spot on his pants, a teasing look in your eyes. “I missed you,”

Bradley reached for the door handle and kept his free hand on your lower back as he got out. “I missed you,” he said back as he carried you up to the front door. He gives you his keys as he sets you down, his hands gripping your waist when you turn and unlock the door. “God, you look so pretty.”

You give him a smirk from over your shoulder as you enter the house, and he follows close behind and kicks the door shut behind him. “Guess what?” You ask as you turn around and drape your arms around his neck.

He hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulled you against him. “What?”

“In a few days it’ll be one year since we met,”

Your words didn’t sound true to him, as it felt like he had known you for a lot longer than a year by this point, but when he gave it some thought, he realized you were right.

He was going on half a year of being with you, unofficially, when he fucked up and broke things off, then he spent a month and a half on his own, then another three after that with you as his official girlfriend, and now it’s been another two months.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, holding you even closer to him. “Almost one whole year since the second best night of my life.”

You squint as you play with his pins. “What’s the first?”

“The night I got you back,” he answered, kissing the corner of your mouth. “The same night I told you I love you.”

You give him a dumb grin as you tug at the hair on the back of his neck. “What a perfect night that was,” you agree and he shakes his head as he picks you up effortlessly and carries you down the hall towards your bedroom.

“It was perfect because you decided to forgive me for some reason,” he says as he lays you down on the bed. “Still haven’t quite figured out why you did that, but I’ll never complain.”

You shake your head as he unbuttons his shirt and lets it drop to the floor. “I’d forgive you a hundred times again if it meant it ended with us being together,”

Bradley kissed your mouth deeply, his hand coming up to grip one of your breasts through your dress as he did so. “We’ll always be together, I made sure of that,” he held up your left hand so your ring is on full display. That same hand tangles in his hair as he kisses his way down your body. “Now let’s see the mess you made.”

He pulls down your damp panties and drops them to the floor as well, his eyes darkening at your glistening core. You gasp as he leans in and licks a stripe up your folds, the sudden stimulation making your body shudder a bit.

His tongue gently traces circles onto your clit, and you tug on his hair in the way you know he loves. “Bradley,” you whimper, shaking a bit when he lifts a hand and slowly slips his middle and index fingers into you. “It’s too much.”

But your walls greedily sucked the digits in deeper, betraying your own words. “You can take it,”

And you could. He would never make you do something you weren’t comfortable with, nor would he ever push you past your limit. He knew how much you could handle, and he knew you weren’t close to that point yet. His dick twitched at the thought of getting you there, though.

You moan quietly, propping yourself up on one elbow as you thread your fingers through his hair. “Don’t cut this,” you softly request, making him laugh against you. The vibrations had you clenching tightly around his fingers and another moan leaving your lips, this one much louder than the last.

He pulls away from your core with wet lips that were curved into a smirk. “You like me with longer hair, huh?” He teased, tracing your clit again with a barely-there pressure.

“I love you with longer hair,” you correct and tilt your head back. “Please, don’t cut it for a little while, okay?”

He laughed again, fucking his fingers a bit faster into you. “I’ll keep it this way for as long as you want,” he offered and was completely serious. His hair had only grown about an inch while he was deployed, and though he preferred to have it short, he wasn’t opposed to growing it out for you.

In other words, he was completely whipped for you and wanted to do any little thing that would make you happy, and he would proudly admit that to anyone who asked.

“You love me that much, huh?” You tease back, your face scrunching up a bit as his fingers reach that spot deep within you.

“I think I love you a bit too much,” he said, his mouth returning to your clit. Your mouth opens in a quiet whine, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as he circles the bundle of nerves with his tongue. “You’re going to be my wife. My fucking wife.”

You grin down at him, your thighs shaking a bit when he fucks his tongue into you. “You kept your word, huh? About ensuring that I’d grow sick of you? I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about wives growing sick of their husbands, Bradley,”

He looks up at you, his mouth glistening. “We’re meant to be together, baby,” he states, wrapping his arms around your thighs. “You can grow as sick of me as you want, but I’m never getting over you.”

Tugging harshly at his hair, you whimper. “You always say the sweetest things,”

“I know,” he agrees. “You’ve made me so pathetic, but it’s worth it.”

You shake your head quickly, reaching further down and caressing the side of his face. “You’re not pathetic, Bradley,” you scolded with a hint of playfulness in your voice, but you were also dead serious. “Meeting you that night at the Hard Deck was the best thing that ever happened to me, and everything that happened after that led up to this. I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even the heartbreaks.”

Bradley pulled his mouth away and stared up at you with nothing but love in his dark eyes. “Baby,” he rasped, using his free hand to assist him in crawling back up your body. He continues to fuck his fingers into you as he presses his mouth to yours in a desperate and needy kiss. “I promise I will never hurt you ever again. That was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I promise, for as long as I’m with you, I’ll make sure you’re so fucking happy all the time.”

You smile into the kiss, raking your nails down his back with just enough pressure to cause the sting he loved so much. “Guess I’m going to be so fucking happy for the rest of my life,”

He grinned back at you. “I’ll make sure of it,” he repeats as the tips of his fingers brush against your sweet spot.

Your smile breaks as a moan tumbles from your mouth, and you grab onto his hair tightly and bring his mouth to yours in a messy kiss. “‘M gonna come again,”

Bradley hums against your mouth, your salivas mixing together and wetting both yours and his lips. “Come for me, baby,” he practically begged, wanting nothing more than to get you off at least a couple more times in the remainder of the day since you had been deprived of it for so long.

You gladly do as he says and come for the second time since he returned home. Your body shook a bit uncontrollably as you moaned against his mouth, his throat swallowing all of your sweet sounds. “Bradley,” you nearly whispered, reaching down to still his hand once you felt the sensitivity begin to take over.

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed, kissing you again before slowly pulling his fingers out of your sopping core. Seconds later he was sucking them clean of your release, never breaking eye contact with you as he did so. “You’re so good for me, baby. Taste so good.”

“Jesus,” you mutter as you try to stop your legs from shaking. He just smiles at you, his hands reaching down to pull your dress up and over your head.

He leans down and kisses along the tops of your breasts, his fingers playing with the straps of your bra as he did so. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweet girl?” He asked, reaching behind you and unclasping your bra. “Think you can take another one?”

You nod your head as he drops your bra off the side of the bed, your kiss swollen lips puffed out and begging him to cover them with his own again. “Always,” you answer, unzipping his pants with shaky fingers.

Bradley watched with a teasing grin, his eyes moving up your bare body and meeting your own. “I don’t think you’re ready for another one,” he mumbled, trailing his fingers down your chest until they were pinching your nipples. “Think you need a minute.”

“No,” you shake your head and push down his khaki pants just enough to be able to free him from his tight boxer briefs. “Bradley, please.”

He just grinned down at your pleads, smoothing your hair out again. “You need me, hm?” He knew he was being cruel, but the sight of you so needy and whiny and desperate for him was one he loved to see. “You need to be filled.”

It wasn’t a question, because you both know the answer to it. “I need it so badly,” you agreed, pulling down his briefs and wrapping your small fingers around him. “Haven’t you missed being inside of me?”

Bradley groaned quietly as you began to stroke him. “Of course I did, baby,” he answered, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. Your hand felt so much better than his own, and he knew no one else could get him going like you can. “Missed it so much.”

“Then stop teasing me,” you murmur, stroking him a bit faster. He grunted and kissed your shoulder before sucking a mark there, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist. Biting down harshly on your lip, you think about what you were going to say next very carefully, and more specifically, what you were going to call him. You were a bit nervous as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, but decided to go for it. You could wallow in the embarrassment later if he were to not be into it. “Come on, please….daddy.”

It was as if all the air in the room had been sucked away. Bradley tensed up immediately, his mouth detaching from your shoulder as he slowly began to lift his head. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and your skin was on fire as you waited to see his reaction.

You were a bit worried that his silence meant something bad, but when he lifted his head all the way and finally met your gaze, his eyes were even darker and his expression told you all you needed to know. He was into it. “Daddy…huh?” He tested the word out and noticed the way you squirmed under him when he said it. He braced his forearms on either side of your head as he ground his front against yours, his mouth muffling the moan you let out as he pressed a deep kiss to your lips. “I’m your daddy, hm, baby?” He asked when he pulled away, his eyes flickering between your own and your mouth.

You nod once and smile shyly up at him, as if you hadn’t just called him your fucking daddy.

He groaned loudly, growing impossibly harder. “Is it because I’m ten years older than you?”

You shrug. “Maybe. I just wanted to try it out,” you mumble. “See how it felt. If you’re not into it-”

“Oh, I’m into it,” he cut you off, kissing your neck and throat as he tried to hold back his groans. “Fuck, am I into it. I’m trying not to come right now after hearing you call me that.”

You laugh, a blush taking over your face. “So, we’re both okay with it,” you state and he nods quickly. “Okay….now can you please fuck me? I missed you for two months, daddy.”

Bradley growled under his breath, reaching down and guiding himself into your dripping core without any resistance from you. “Fuck,” he grunted, sliding one arm under you while his other hand reaches up and tangles in your hair. “You feel so fucking perfect.”

You moan at the stretch of your walls, your own fingers being nothing compared to him. It was no wonder you couldn’t get yourself off when it was this you were so used to. “You’re so big,” you gasp when he begins to roughly rock his hips against yours. “Oh, God.”

“Not quite,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against yours with a smirk forming on his lips. “I think we established who I am to you, huh?”

Another blush takes over your face as you nod, raking your hands through his messy hair. “Right,” you say, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “You fill me up so well, daddy. Make me feel so good.”

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured, kissing you again as he fucked into you hard and fast, just the way he knew you needed. Your core greedily took every thrust, though sensitive, but desperate to be filled up by him. “‘M gonna make you my wife, pretty girl. Show everyone how much I fucking love you.”

Not that everyone didn’t already know, he wanted to add but didn’t. It was true, though. Everyone knew that he was in love with you before he even realized it himself.

You whine quietly, tracing his scars with the tip of your index finger. Your body rocked against his with every grind of his hips, your hands clinging onto any part of him they could get a firm grip on. “I love you, Bradley,” you moan, digging your heel into his lower back and driving him deeper into you. “I have since the very beginning.”

“I’ve loved you for almost a year now,” he commented, pulling away with a grin. “A whole year.”

You grin back, kissing his cheek and then his neck as you ask, “Bradley, let me ride you, please?”

It wasn’t a position you found yourself in too often, as you both preferred him to be on top, but it was one that allowed him to reach the deepest part of you.

He grunted and pulled away from you. “You think you can keep up, sweet girl? I’ve made you come twice now and you’re looking a little spent,”

“You’re the one who is ten years older, remember?” You remind him as you writhe around a bit. “I think I can keep up just fine.”

Bradley hummed, his grin turning into a smirk as he placed one hand on your lower back and pulled your body against his as he flipped you over so he was on his back. “Okay,” he challenged in a deep tone. “Ride me, then.”

You place your palms flat against his chest as you sink down onto him, the new angle making him stretch you in the best way possible. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

He laughs a bit as his hands move to grip your waist and help guide you up and down on him. “What makes you say that?”

Your brows furrow a bit as your nails dig into his skin. “You’ve gotten me off two times now, it’s not fair. You’ve ruined me,”

He laughed again, his thumbs pressing into the skin of your hips as you slowly rode him. “I thought that was a good thing,”

“It is,” you whisper as he reaches the deepest part of you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. “Fuck.”

Bradley gives you a half smirk and half grin as he stills you by your hips and thrusts sharply upwards. “There?” He asks under his breath, knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it.

Of course you give in. “Yes,” you whimper, scratching down his chest as he fucks up into you. “Right there, Bradley. Feels so good.”

You clench down tightly around him and Bradley had to force himself to not come right then and there. “I know,” he muttered through a tight jaw, his brows furrowing as you lean down and press multiple kisses to the scars on his throat and neck. “I know, baby, you feel so fucking good, too.”

“Bradley,” you whine, reaching a hand up and tugging on his hair. “I’m gonna come.”

Bradley, who had been holding off since he got you off in the Bronco, felt his body tense up as he helped you ride him until you had come for the third time since he got back. Your warmth floods around him and makes it easier to thrust up into you, and the fucked out expression you wore had him grunting as he came deep within you. “Fuck,” he rasped, keeping your body pressed firmly against his.

Still buried in you, Bradley slides his hands up your body until he is able to grip the back of your shoulders and hold you against him as he moves to lay on his side. You laugh loudly, wrapping your leg around his waist and draping your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he murmured as he pressed kisses to your neck, his hand blindly reaching for your left one. He pulled back to be able to look at your ring for a few seconds, a dumb grin taking over his lips once he looked back at you. “I can’t believe we’re gonna get married. I mean, I can, but I can’t.”

You shake your head and lean up to kiss the base of his throat, feeling his deep groan against your lips. “Let’s go to the Hard Deck later,” you offer with a teasing smile.

He groaned again and shook his head, wrapping you up tighter in his arms and moving back up to the pillows. “No, baby, I wanna stay home with you all night,”

The movement caused him to shift slightly inside you, making you hold back a whine at the nearly overwhelming feeling of sensitivity. You couldn’t believe he had made you come three times in under an hour, when you couldn’t even do that after spending multiple hours trying to. “But we have some exciting news to share with our friends,” you state and run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out.

Bradley furrows his brows as he runs his hand up and down your back. “What do you mean?” He asks, pulling back to be able to look at you when you didn’t respond. Realization kicked in and his eyes widened a bit. “You didn’t tell anyone?”

You smile and shake your head. “No, I wanted us to tell them together. I hid my ring in public,” you say. “Why, who did you tell?”

“Only Jake, like, right after it happened,” he says as he finally pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You prop yourself up on your elbow and trail your fingers over the crevices of his abs, your mind a bit hazy at just how fit he is. “I swear, if he’s already told everyone I will make sure he does not get invited to the wedding. I don’t care if he’s our friend.”

“Our friend?” You ask with wide eyes. “I knew you two made up! Bradley, I’m so happy! You two were feuding for way too long.”

“That wasn’t my fault. Yeah, I fucked up first, but he’s the one who never gave me the time of day after you and I got back together,” he pointed out and wrapped his hand around your wrist, his thumb twirling your ring around. “He acted like I didn’t feel guilty for six weeks straight after we…broke up.”

“Bradley,” you trail off, sitting up and nuzzling into his side. “No more thinking about that day. Look at us now. We’re engaged. You’re going to be my husband, Bradley. Everything worked out in the end.”

He nodded and kissed the side of your head, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll always feel bad about it, though,” he mumbled but before you could scold him again he added, “Fuck it, we’re going out tonight. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone. Nat is going to freak the fuck out.”

“So, before we go in there, we need to address something,” Bradley says as you and he stand outside the Hard Deck. He wore tight fitting jeans and a pale blue and white Hawaiian shirt, and he looked damn near edible, you almost wanted to turn right back around so he could get you off for a fourth time.

Thinking he was referring to your secret engagement, you move closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “What is it?”

He grips your waist and the smirk that formed on his lips was all you needed to see to realize it wasn’t about the engagement. “This whole ‘daddy’ thing wasn’t a one time thing, right? Please don’t say it was a one time thing,”

You blush a bit and match his smirk, dropping your arms as you lean up and whisper, “Let’s go share our news, daddy,”

Bradley held back a groan as he blindly reached behind him and pulled open the door. You enter the Hard Deck tucked securely under his arm, your left hand hidden away in his back pocket. As soon as Nat locked eyes with him she was pushing her way through the crowd of aviators and throwing herself into her best friend’s arms. “I’m so happy you’re back,” she admitted and Bradley laughed as he hugged her back. “I gotta say, Y/n and I’s girl days weren’t really girl days at all. She spent the whole time whining about how much she missed you. It was sad, really.”

Your face heats up and you look away quickly, making Bradley grin down at you once he pulls away from the hug. “Yeah, well, I’m sure Jake feels the same way you do, Nat,” he said as he pulled you back into his side. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” she said back, looking between you and him. “It’s even better to see you two back together. So, when’s the wedding? I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t asked you to marry him yet.”

You and Bradley share a not-so-obvious look and Nat raises a brow.

“What? What am I missing…” she trailed off once you lifted your left hand and showed her the ring you spent the last two months hiding from her. Her face stayed a bit expressionless as she looked at the ring, then it was as a switch flipped as she let out a small squeal before covering her mouth. “You guys are engaged?! When? Where? How did this happen? Damn, Rooster, you haven’t even been home for twenty four hours yet and you already proposed to her?”

“As if,” he scoffed. “No, I proposed to her two months ago.”

Nat looked over at you with shock all over her face. “What? What the fuck, Y/n, how did you hide that from me?”

You shrugged. “I’m good at hiding things, I guess,”

This time Nat was the one to scoff. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t even keep your crush on Rooster a secret,” she said and you press your lips together in slight embarrassment when you hear Bradley laugh next to you. “We all knew you were in love with him from the night you met. You weren’t smooth about it at all.”

Bradley looks down at you with a teasing smile. “Aw,”

“Hey, you weren’t smooth about it, either,” Nat added, making his smile drop. “I can’t believe you guys are engaged! It took you long enough.” She moved to hug him again then moved onto you.

“Only you and Jake know now,” you say as you hug her back. “We’re going to announce it here.”

She pulled back with a barely concealed smile. “How did he go about it? Was it romantic?”

You look up at him with a sheepish grin. “He did it back on the dock before he left for his deployment. It was pretty romantic,”

Nat looked over at him as well. “Damn, Bradley, you left right after proposing?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t wait any longer,”

“You guys are seriously so cute. I’m so happy for you,” she beamed. “Now please tell everyone else. I have a big mouth and I’m refraining from screaming right now.”

And that was how you found yourself surrounded by the dagger squad, a beer in everyone’s hands as they congratulated you on your engagement. “Thank God you two got here before I did,” Jake said as he stood next to you at the bar. “I thought big mouth over here would’ve told everyone the second she left that dock. I was going to bring it up with Javy later. That would’ve been pretty awkward.” He nudged you and you rolled your eyes.

“Thanks for not spoiling the surprise, Jake,” you say and lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Congrats, sweetheart,” he winked at you and wandered off towards the dart board.

You turn to Bradley and find him grinning at you, and you weren’t able to smile back before he was leaning down and kissing you. “I love you,” he mumbles once he pulls away.

“I love you,” you say back and look down at the bar. “Hey, this is where we met. In this exact spot.”

Bradley, too, looked down and his smile only grew. “Would you look at that,” he said as he set his empty beer down before taking your half full one from your hand. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest, his hand finding yours and his thumb turning your ring again. “Look where we are now. We’re getting married. We belong together, pretty girl.”

“Took you long enough to realize it,” you teased and he just shook his head before kissing you again.

#rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun maverick #top gun au #rooster top gun #top gun rooster #tgm fic #tgm #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic

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moonlight-prose · 9 months

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✧ KINKTOBER 2023 ✧

Once more kinktober is upon us! Spooky season has officially arrived and with a new set of filthy fics to give us all a fun time. While I was going to skip doing it this year altogether, I figured what was the fun in that? I am adamant on finishing this list this year which means I will be writing my ass off. So here's to a fun filled filthy October. Here we go!

minors dni. this content is not for you in the slightest. everything here is 18+ only. you will be blocked on sight.

i don’t keep taglists anymore but i do have a library blog that is updated whenever i post a fic.

reblogs, comments, and feedback is always welcome!

WEEK ONE: 10/1 - 10/8 ──── "I am the love witch."

day one: hair pulling + choking - joel miller

day two: photos - mickey "fanboy" garcia

day three: handjob + mirror sex - frankie morales

day four: cockwarning + dirty talk - jake "hangman" seresin

day five: guided masturbation + intercrural sex - marc spector

day six: spit kink - joaquín torres

day seven: creampie - steven grant

day eight: double penetration + threesome - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f!reader x jake "hangman" seresin

WEEK TWO: 10/9 - 10/16 ──── "I have crossed oceans of time to find you."

day nine: blood play - miguel o'hara

day ten: thigh riding - jake lockley

day eleven: shower sex - joel miller

day twelve: mutual masturbation + phone sex - steven grant

day thirteen: overstimulation - tommy miller

day fourteen: nipple play + scissoring - natasha "phoenix" trace

day fifteen: cunnilingus + cum eating - bradley "rooster" bradshaw

day sixteen: sixty-nine + anal play - marc spector

WEEK THREE: 10/17 - 10/24 ──── "Tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead."

day seventeen: deep throating - mickey "fanboy" garcia

day eighteen: sex pollen - miguel o'hara

day nineteen: dry humping - cassian andor

day twenty: praise kink - joel miller

day twenty-one: breath play + fingering - anakin skywalker

day twenty-two: rough sex + dom/sub - tommy miller

day twenty-three: restraints - din djarin

day twenty-four: sex toys + orgasm control - jake lockley

WEEK FOUR: 10/25 - 10/31 ──── "The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones."

day twenty-five: oral fixation - joel miller

day twenty-six: exhibitionism - steven grant

day twenty-seven: strip tease - bradley "rooster" bradshaw

day twenty-eight: consensual somnophilia - joaquín torres

day twenty-nine: biting/marking + squirting - miguel o'hara

day thirty: breeding - din djarin

day thirty-one: dealer's choice!

#kinktober 2023 #top gun maverick #star wars #pedro pascal #moon knight smut #star wars smut #miguel o'hara smut #kinktober #my writing #if you see familiar works from last year #it's because i've just taken what i didn't write and added it to here #not many but a few

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katebishopsbow · 2 years

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NEVER HAVE I EVER • BRADLEY BRADSHAW (part i)

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader (18+)

summary: a game of never have i ever leads to bradley (as well as everyone) finding out that you are a virgin. the thought of being your first drives him a little crazy, and he can’t wait to ruin your sweet innocence.

tags: explicit sexual content (minors dni), slight angst, fingering, praise kink, spit, inexperienced!reader, virgin!reader, age gap, dom!bradley, no mentions of y/n, established relationship

word count: 4.8k

read never have i ever (part ii) here

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────── “Never have I ever had sex.”

The group simultaneously groans at the lame “Never Have I Ever” question, rolling their eyes in feigned annoyance as they finish their tequila shots unwillingly. Hangman throws his head back in an amused laugh, taking a shot of his own while he chuckles at his successful attempt to get everyone to drink - a perfect way to get the night started.

While all of them are too busy either chasing the tequila with a drink of their choice or complaining about Hangman’s lame antics, nobody notices how you were the only one out of the entire group who didn’t take a shot. You glance around anxiously while praying to all the almighty gods out there that no one spots you, though it seems that your prayers are unanswered when Hangman calls out your name.

“You didn’t take a shot,” he points out before pouring himself another tequila shot, eyeing your still full shot glass with a suspicious stare. Damn him for being so observant. You wrack your brain to come up with a witty remark, a vague excuse - anything that can get you out of blatantly admitting that you are indeed a virgin to your fellow aviators, but it is almost as if your mind has stopped working, finding yourself at a complete loss for words.

It isn’t like there’s anything wrong with being a virgin, and you know that it isn’t uncommon to lack sexual experience at your age - still being in your early twenties and all. It’s just that growing up in a strict household with religious parents and living in a small little town where sex has always been considered a taboo subject all your life, you aren’t particularly comfortable talking about your sex life - or lack thereof - so openly. Especially not in front of your comrades who are older and definitely more experienced.

In your peripheral vision, you can see Rooster watching you from across the pool table with an unfathomable look on his face, his intense gaze making you swallow nervously. You can feel all eyes on you, their curious stares doing nothing to help with your blank state of mind.

“Didn’t you tell us that you had a boyfriend back in high school or something?” Coyote said, referring to that night when you drunkenly shared stories about your shitty ex-boyfriend - including that one time when he gave you a promise ring with his ex’s initials engraved on it for your anniversary, hoping somehow you wouldn’t notice the recycled gift. “Yeah, but we just… we didn’t do much,” you mutter out a short answer, shrugging your shoulders in feigned nonchalance while hoping that the conversation can move on to something else, anything else.

Hangman’s lips pull up into a slight smirk at your reply, an expression you come to know all too well. “Don’t worry, our dear old Rooster here is an excellent teacher,” he jokes while raising his eyebrows suggestively, poking fun at the new couple in the group. You clear your throat with an awkward cough and take a gulp of your beer, not particularly comfortable with discussing your sex life with Bradley to your friends.

You know that he means no harm though. It’s just Hangman being Hangman, everybody sitting there knows that, including Rooster. Despite knowing that this is merely one of Hangman’s lame, harmless jokes, it didn’t do much to suppress the anger simmering in the pit of Rooster’s stomach. “Hey man, cut it out,” he warned through gritted teeth, his tone authoritative as he tightened his jaw in irritation. Realizing that he has overstepped, Hangman raises his hand in surrender and mutters a quick “sorry” before swiftly resuming the game of “Never Have I Ever”.

The game continues on through the night, the awkward moment where it was revealed that you are a virgin - though not explicitly - has long been forgotten by your friends after a few rounds of drinks. You remain a participant in the game, only taking shots at the more mundane questions like “Never have I ever broken a bone” or “Never have I ever given out a fake number to a guy” whereas the others are taking shots at things like having a threesome or calling people the wrong name during sex - heck, even Bob has taken a shot at the question “Never have I ever been given a lap dance”

It is then when you realize just how different you are from your fellow aviators, whether it be your lack of sexual experience or your relatively dull life. While they have all these crazy stories and adventures to share, you have basically nothing. You find yourself suddenly feeling out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb, and being excluded from the conversation while you watch them downing shots at things so daring that you’ve never even dreamt of doing.

To make matters worse while you throw yourself a little pity party, you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you the entire night, right after your little confession. He gazes into you with a blank, stoic expression, his stare only leaving you occasionally when he stands up to get more drinks for the others. The aircon inside the Hard Deck is blasting, leaving the bar so chilly that even Phoenix had her leather jacket on - yet somehow you can feel yourself heating up despite only wearing a flimsy sundress.

Having just started dating Bradley roughly two months ago, you never mention to him that you are a virgin - the topic simply never came up. And while you know you must be overthinking because the Rooster that you know and come to fall in love with would never judge you for something like this, you can’t help the worry silently gnawing at your mind. Does Bradley mind that you are a virgin? Is he less attracted to you now that he knows you lack sexual experience?

You try to shift your focus back to the game, hoping that your friends’ ridiculous “Never Have I Ever” questions can help distract you, but you find it difficult to indulge in the game now that a gloomy raincloud sits above your head, ruining your mood and refusing to leave despite your best efforts.

The night ended with the majority of the group completely wasted after consuming an unhealthy amount of alcohol in their game of “Never Have I Ever”, downing shots like no tomorrow as if they are college kids on a Friday night. You can already imagine the terrible hangover all of them will have the next day, and you might even feel slightly sorry for them if they haven’t brought it on themselves.

Hangman can barely stand even with the help of Phoenix and Bob, mumbling out some incoherent nonsense while the trio stumbles out of the bar. Payback manages to call an uber after struggling for five minutes to type in his passcode and fetches himself, Fanboy, and Coyote a ride back to base. While the last of the drunk ones get in the car, waving lazily as the vehicle drives away, the only two sober ones in the group are left. You didn’t have much to drink to begin with, considering how you haven’t done most of the crazy shit they said. Whereas Rooster opted out of the game after two rounds, stating that he needs to stay sober to watch over the group in case anything happens.

“Let me walk you home,” Rooster says to you while offering you his hand, his lips pulling up into a small smile when you don’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers together, feeling the warmth of his hand envelope your own. You live at an apartment off-base within walking distance of the bar, and Rooster always makes sure to walk you home after every night out at the Hard Deck. The ten-minute walk to your apartment is usually the time when you two catch up, enjoy your alone time and talk about everything as he presses kisses on your moon-illuminated cheeks every now and then, telling you how beautiful you look.

Tonight is different though, since Rooster is staying silent with a somewhat tensed look across his features. The summer breeze feels unpleasantly colder than usual, the moon looking exceptionally dull in the dark abyss of the sky, and you find yourself falling quiet for the rest of the way home - no longer in your usual bright mood to joke around with your boyfriend.

It doesn’t take long before you arrive outside your apartment, fishing for your keys inside your bag before unlocking the door. Rooster remains outside as he watches you enter your home and switch the living room lights on, ready to bid you goodnight when you interject, “Do you wanna come in?” He stares at you for a few seconds, his brows quirking up almost as if he is contemplating his choices, and finally nods at your invitation.

You let him in before swiftly shutting the door behind him, feeling your heart quicken its pace ever so slightly as if this is your first time having him over. “You want anything to drink?” you ask when you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, finishing it in several gulps to wash away the unpleasant taste of alcohol on your tongue. “I’m good,” Rooster answers simply, not bothering to look up at you while he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Baby,” you sigh quietly, and your boyfriend finally glances up at you at your usual pet name for him. “Is there something wrong?” Rooster shakes his head at your question, blinking up at you from his seat on the couch with a puzzled look. “What? No,” he answers with a truthful expression, and you almost got fooled if it isn’t for the way his eyes widen ever so slightly.

Normally you would let it slide and drop the matter, preferring to let Rooster open up to you when he feels comfortable and at his own pace. However, after being out for the whole night, you simply do not have it in you to beat around the bush anymore. There is clearly something up with your boyfriend and you two are going to deal with this right here, right now. “You’ve been quiet this entire evening!” you sigh for the umpteenth time that day, staring your exhausted eyes down at the floor while you fumble with your fingers absentmindedly. Rooster falls silent once again, struggling to find the right words to say.

Dreadful thoughts squirm at the back of your mind, and despite your best effort to convince yourself to stop overthinking, you can’t help the worry that sits inside your head. “Is this because of me… being a virgin? Did you want someone more experienced?” you ask in a dejected voice, your lips turning into a small pout as your sentence slowly fades into nothingness.

Going into the relationship, you know that he has way more experience than you - considering the relatively large age gap between you two. You’ve always thought that it would not affect you, but judging by your boyfriend’s reaction throughout the night, you guess that’s not the case.

Rooster watches you from across the living room, a look of bewilderment on his face while the gears in his head turn slowly, struggling to comprehend what you just said. “Wait what?” he blurted out, confusion evident in his tone. “Honey… of course not!” he hurriedly rises to his feet and walks over to you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. “You think I would love you any less because of this?” Rooster’s delicate fingers reach for your chin, softly tilting your head up so that you are looking at him while he places his other hand on the small of your back. His gaze is gentle, sincere, his eyes holding so much warmth and adoration for you that you almost feel stupid for even thinking that he would mind your lack of experience.

“I don’t know — why did you stare at me for the whole night then? You kept giving me this look… right after I said that I am a virgin,” you mutter underneath your breath. “I was just thinking about some stuff…” he answers vaguely while averting his eyes, briefly running his fingers through his disheveled hair. “About what?” you ask again, determined to get to the bottom of this, and you can feel the frustration grow within you when he falls quiet once more. “Tell me right now, Bradley Bradshaw,” you demand as you address him by his full name, adamant to know what’s been on your boyfriend’s mind that was bothering him so much.

Rooster exhales a breathy sigh before his gaze returns to you, still not speaking a single word, but you swear you see something in his eyes change. The tension in the room suddenly feels different, a slight shift in the air, and your heart races at the thought. He slowly leans into your neck to breathe in your scent, placing a chaste kiss on your skin before he asks, “You wanna know what I was thinking about the whole night, baby? Hmm?” His voice is soft and mellow, each word sweet like honey while he places a few more open-mouthed kisses on your neck, making your breath hitch. Feeling your pulse quicken at the sensation of his lips against you, you exhale shakily before giving him a hesitant nod.

You try your hardest to remain unbothered, not wanting him to know just how worked up you are getting from his kisses alone - though you can already feel your mind getting slightly hazy at the proximity. With him being this close to you, it feels as though every sense of yours is heightened, cranked up to the max. You can feel the heat of his skin against your own, the warmth of his arms through the thin fabric of your dress, and the way his mustache lightly grazes your neck. You can smell the faint citrusy aroma from the shampoo he likes to use, as well as the familiar scent of his favorite cologne - the one you got him for his birthday.

“I was wondering… has anyone ever made you come before?” Rooster whispers into your neck, hot breath fanning onto your skin with each word that falls from his lips. Your muscles tense up at his revelation - never in a million years did you expect that as his answer. “What? I—I don’t know,” you stammer nervously, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at his straightforwardness. “Yes or no, baby?” His sultry tone makes you feel like you’re becoming out of breath, the oxygen in your lungs depleting with each passing second. You inhale a shuddering breath before slowly shaking your head, certain that your voice will start tremoring the second you open your mouth to speak.

His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you, clearly noticing just how affected you are getting by his words. It feels almost wrong how turned on he is by you, by the look of innocence on your face, by the thought of corrupting you. “The entire night… I was thinking about being the first to be inside you. The first to make you come on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.” You can feel the wind getting knocked out of you, each word sending an explosion of tingles down your spine and straight to your core, leaving you completely breathless.

To hear those sinful words come out of your boyfriend’s mouth - the man who is always so gentle and sweet to you - feels so wrong but so right at the same time. His lewd words flood into your mind, occupying each and every one of your thoughts and quickly morphing into vivid imaginations. You imagine having his fingers pumping inside you steadily as he whispers praises into your ear, coaxing broken moans out of you while his skillful tongue laps feverishly against your folds - god, the things you’d do just to have him touch you.

Your mouth goes dry when he trails tender kisses along your neck, teeth scratching against your skin, and you just barely manage to hold in a whimper when he nibbles lightly on your earlobes. Rooster pulls away momentarily and stares into you with darkened eyes, hazy and clouded with lust. He slides his hands around your waist to pull you closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans forward to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. Your bodies press against each other heatedly, the warmth of his embrace enveloping your entire being.

Circling your arms around his neck, you thread your fingers into his sandy hair and give an experimental tug, relishing the throaty groan that escapes his lips. “Tell me baby, have you ever touched yourself?” he leans back from the kiss to ask, letting his gaze drag from your flushed cheeks down to the revealing neckline of your dress. “I guess… sometimes,” you admit to him, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. His thumb gently brushes over your slick bottom lips, and he swears that the innocent look in your eyes will soon drive him to insanity.

Rooster’s fingers slowly trace along your waist, loving the way your breath hitches with every delicate stroke of his hand - and he can’t help but wonder what other kinds of sound you’ll make when he touches you elsewhere. “Tell me, darlin’. Who do you think about when you’re fucking yourself with those pretty little fingers?” He pushes himself even closer to you as he awaits your response, letting out a deep groan when he feels your body press against his erection, the friction between his jeans and your sundress providing minimal relief.

Your mind drifts back to the countless nights when you had your hands down your panties, eyes screwed shut, pleasuring yourself with clumsy, unskilled strokes that can never quite give you the pleasure you yearn for as you imagine it was Rooster doing it instead. “You,” you answer truthfully, almost afraid that you have said something wrong when Rooster’s fingers come to a sudden halt. Your name falls from his lips in a quiet whisper, the way he says it fogging up your head with arousal even more. Slowly reaching for your chin, he pulls you close toward him so that your lips are barely touching. “You will be the death of me,” he breathes against your lips as his hand lowers to the hemline of your dress, fumbling lazily with the thin fabric.

Rooster’s hand inches lower and lower until he finally slides it underneath your dress, fingers gently caressing the inside of your thighs. His fingertips feel scorching hot against your skin, setting your body ablaze and igniting a fire deep inside you, one that can only be put out by his touch. Your breath catches in your throat when his fingers trail along the apex of your thighs and settles over the elastic of your underwear. His touch is ever so delicate, slow and unhurried as if he’s deliberately trying to tease you, as if the damned smirk on his face isn’t teasing enough already.

“You look so pretty right now,” he rasps out, running his digits over the thin cotton fabric at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving you wanting more. There is a familiar smugness that dawns upon his features when he feels the dampened fabric, fingertips drawing small circles against the wet spot, earning a pleasured gasp from you as your eyelids screw shut. You bite your lips in an attempt to suppress the sounds threatening to spill from your lips, but eventually, you fail when he presses harder against your core, determined to hear your pretty moans. “Rooster, please. Touch me,” you plead with a trembling voice, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you like he means it, and Rooster has never loved his callsign more than this moment when he hears it fall from your lips.

“Patience, darlin’.” He leans in to connect your lips, and you moan into the kiss when you feel his tongue swiping against your bottom lip, licking inside your mouth. It feels heavenly to have his fingers touch your clothed core, but you want more, much more, you want it so bad you can almost cry, so you reach for his arm and give it an eager tug. “Bradley, just—please!” Each of your words is laced with a kind of desperation Rooster has never seen or heard before, and it sends a shock of electricity through him.

“Relax for me. I’ll make you feel real good,” he says in a hushed voice and finally slides his hand inside your underwear, slicking up his digits with your wetness as he strokes up and down your folds. The sensation is so electrifying that your eyes fly shut, your back arching off the wall with a sharp inhale. A desperate whine escapes your lips when he pushes up a little higher, rubbing soft circles over your clit. “You like that, baby?” he murmurs between kisses, his eyes lingering on your flushed face as he continues to touch the spot between your thighs. You give him an urgent nod, both hands fisting tightly on his shirt as you pray that he never stops.

When he slowly pushes a finger inside your cunt, you can almost feel your eyes roll to the back of your head in pure ecstasy, tiny sparks of pleasure slithering up your veins and fogging up your head. Broken moans fall from your lips with every stroke of his finger, and your body shivers at the way his fingertips glide along your walls. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He pulls away for a second, the sudden loss of contact making you whine involuntarily, and you probably would’ve been so embarrassed if it isn’t for how turned on you are right now. With Rooster right in front of you, you simply can’t bring yourself to care anymore. “Shh, it’s okay.” Arousal floods through your brain as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips, wetting his digits with spit while he savors the taste of you on him. “You taste so good,” he sighs contently before lowering his slick hand to your core once again, this time sliding two fingers inside you.

You hiss at the slight stretch and tilt your head back against the wall, whining at the slightly painful yet somehow pleasurable sensation. His fingers feel entirely different from your own, much thicker than your delicate ones, his movement deft and skilled. None of the sleepless nights you spent with nothing but your shitty vibrator and your imagination to keep you company can ever compare to this moment. With Rooster’s fingers knuckles deep inside of your throbbing core, thrusting steadily as his thumb occasionally rub lazy circles against your clit - this all feels too good to be true.

“Good girl. You’re taking my fingers so well,” he leans in to whisper in your ear, and you swear you begin seeing stars at the praise. His breath hitches in his throat when he feels your cunt tightening around his finger, and he lets out a deep grunt before asking, “You like it when I call you that, hmm? My good fucking girl.” Strings of incoherent words pour out of your lips with every steady stroke of his hand, leaving the both of you breathless while he watches you being ruined. The way your eyebrows become furrowed, mouth ajar while you beg him not to stop - everything seems like it came straight out of his wet dream.

Rooster wants to ruin you, to corrupt you, to make you come so hard that you’ll forget your name. “Fuck, Bradley!” you gasp when he begins curling his fingers inside you, the pleasurable sensation sending a trail of shivers down your spine. The living room is filled with your sinful moans and his labored breathing, along with the obscene sounds of his fingers thrusting inside you.

There is a familiar tightening sensation at the pit of your stomach, yet this time it feels much more intense. Rooster tears his gaze away from your face to glance down with his half-lidded eyes, almost hypnotized by the way his fingers disappear inside you with every stroke. The confinement of his jeans is becoming painful as he imagines replacing his fingers with his cock instead, feeling his erection hardening even more. The pace of his thrusts begins speeding up, and he knows you’re getting close by the way your moans grow breathier and more high-pitched.

“Shit, oh shit—right there, fuck!” you mewl desperately when he starts drawing tight circles over your clit, feeling your thighs begin to quiver at the pleasure threatening to overcome you. “That feels good, hmm? Didn’t know you have such a dirty little mouth,” he chuckles and delivers a light smack on your ass, surprised at the choked moan you let out, and he makes a mental note to do that again the next time you two get intimate.

With the combination of the summer heat and your heated bodies pressing together, your forehead is starting to get covered with a sheen of sweat. Rooster stares at your glistening skin and flushed cheeks, your lips red and swollen from biting on them too hard - he wants to devour you so bad. “You’re getting close, darlin’, come for me,” he says under his breath when he feels your walls begin to convulse, clenching around his fingers in an almost rhythmic way.

The knot inside your stomach tightens even more, the pressure building inside you since the second he lays his fingers on you is starting to reach its peak. “Just a little more,” he coos before placing a kiss on the glistening skin of your neck, his eyes fixated on your face as he pumps in and out of your core, determined to bring you to your sweet release. You clutch onto his shirt as if your life depended on it, your whimpers and moans becoming so uncontrollably loud that you are certain your neighbor will be able to hear you.

“Oh god—Bradley, I’m gonna—“ Before you can even finish your sentence, the tightening coil within you snaps and sends you tumbling over the edge, the feeling of ecstasy blinding you. Waves of pleasure crash over you so mercilessly that you almost feel like you are drowning, running out of oxygen in a sea of pure and utter bliss. Your body seizes up at the overwhelming sensation, never once have you experienced an orgasm this intense before, and now you wonder how you were able to survive the past twenty-something years without Bradley.

“That’s it… there you go… good girl.” You can hear the faint voice of your boyfriend, though you can’t bring yourself to reply just yet to his seemingly muffled words. While you are still in your dazed state, Rooster relishes the way your cunt pulsates around his fingers, still pumping slowly inside you to ride out your orgasm. You look absolutely wrecked. Pupils blown and eyes hazy with lust, drops of sweat cascading down your forehead, chest heaving up and down from the lungfuls of air you are taking, and one strap of your dress falling off your shoulders. While you will most certainly argue otherwise, he thinks you cannot be more beautiful than right now.

A good minute has passed before you feel yourself slowly recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm you just experienced - from his fingers only, too. Rooster reaches up to cradle your cheeks gently, pulling you into a sweet kiss despite the sinful thoughts running across his mind. Needless to say, his pants became even tighter now that he has witnessed your orgasm.

You let out a soft hiss at the over-sensitivity when he pulls out his fingers, glistening with your arousal as he brings them up to his lips and sucks. “Fuuck—you taste fucking delicious,” he groans after he pulls away with a lewd pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to his slick fingers. The erotic scene happening before you makes your knees weak, and you are certain you would’ve fallen over if it isn’t for the arm wrapped around you.

“Bradley…” you lean forward to whisper quietly into his ears, the feeling of arousal bubbling within you once again when you feel his hardness pressing firmly into your stomach - a sign that he is just as affected by all of this as you are. “Yes, darlin’?” he inhales a shuddering breath, hissing slightly when your delicate fingers dance across his zipper, fumbling with the metal piece but not quite pulling it down.

“Take me to bed.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw imagines #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #miles teller

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mynameismckenziemae · 5 months

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She's a Fire-Chapter XXV

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x OFC/

Reader (no use of y/n)

On and on

(previous chapter here, next chapter here)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, mean dom!bradley, voyeurism/exhibitionism, spanking, orgasm denial, face slapping, etc.

“This is basically a thong…fuck, and this one has the ruffle thing so it hugs your butt! This top is gonna push your tits up to your chin.” Bradley sighs, dropping the swimwear he’d plucked from the bag you’re packing at the edge of the bed. “I’m literally gonna have a boner all weekend, Row.” He sighs and looks down, “Goddamnit, I have one now.”

You laugh, “I’ll have a cover-up on most of the time so I don’t burn, but I can pack some of my older ones-“

“No, I want you to wear these,” He interrupts, grasping your chin and turning you to look at him. “It doesn’t matter how much, or how little you’re wearing….everything about you turns me on.” He murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.

You’re both breathing heavily when he pulls back, his fingers still gripping your chin. “Tell me the truth, did you buy those little bikinis to tease me? To turn me on?”

Busted.

“I just thought they were cute.”

“Liar,” he replies haughtily, “I know you did. You’ve proven time and time again that you love torturing me any way you can.”

He’s not wrong.

You lean in like you’re going for a kiss but stop a breath away from his lips, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you whisper.

He chuckles darkly and bites your lip before manhandling you facedown, bent over the bed.

“Keep your hands here, and be quiet. The only thing I want to hear from you is ‘yes sir’,” he growls, placing them above your head, “otherwise you won’t be able to show off this perfect peachy ass in any of those new swimsuits,” he continues, squeezing a denim-clad cheek. “Do you understand?”

You shiver. “Yes sir.”

He unbuttons your shorts and pulls them with your underwear over your hips, nudging your leg to kick them off after they fall to your feet. Usually, he takes his time when he takes control, loving the way you squirm from the anticipation and knowing how much it drives you crazy.

But that’s not the case today. He rests his left hand on your lower back and spanks you with his right as soon as your shorts are off. There’s no warm-up, no rubbing the sting out, and no reprieve as he covers each cheek quickly with harsh slaps. Your fingers grip the comforter and you bite your lip to keep from crying out.

It hurts, but the fiery heat from your ass soon spreads and your thighs are soon slick with your arousal.

He relents just as your first tear falls, breathing heavily from behind you as he quickly frees himself from his shorts and pushes into you with a low groan.

You fail to stifle your whimpers and whines as he fucks into you at a brutal pace, nailing your g-spot over and over. You gasp when he wraps your hair around his wrist to tug your head back. “I told you to be quiet. You never listen to me, you tease me, and then you lie about it. You’re just…so fuckin’ naughty.” He pants, releasing your hair to land another slap on your tender cheek. “Aren’t you?”

“Yyyyes sir,” you babble through your tears, yet grow closer and closer with each thrust.

He laughs breathlessly and releases your hair, “‘Course you’d admit it now. But it’s too late.”

Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Bradley pulls out, gripping a cheek roughly to spread you open, pushing the head of his cock between them as he strokes himself roughly, his breathy ‘uhs ’ pulling a whimper from you as you clench around nothing. He releases with a low raspy groan after only a few pulls of his hand.

You mewl, shivering when you feel his warm cum shoot between your cheeks and over your hole.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“Stay here for a sec, I’ll grab a towel,” he pants, trailing his fingers through his seed in your cleft before padding to the bathroom.

You whimper as he wipes the cloth between your legs, lingering longer than he needs to before cleaning the rest of you.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Your head pops up from the bed in confusion when Bradley taps your leg after cleaning you up.

“Helping you put your shorts on,” He replies, standing as he pulls them up your legs.

“But you—I-I didn’t get off though…” you trail off, head falling back to the bed with a frustrated sigh as you realize you’re not going to either.

“Yeah, I know,” he says nonchalantly with a smile.

“But-“

“No buts” he interjects, patting yours over the shorts he just put back on, and pulls you up from the bed, gripping your chin again. His eyes turn molten when he notices the tears in your eyes that you’re trying to blink back before they fall too. “Naughty girls don’t get to cum. Seems like a fair punishment since you like to get me worked up and then deny me so much.”

“The spanking wasn’t enough? Because it sure felt like enough,” you mutter under your breath, wincing when he tightly grasps both cheeks in his hands.

“No. We both know you deserved more than that, but went easy on us since you’ll be wearing swimwear most of the weekend,” He murmurs as he kisses down to your ear. “Just say the word and I’ll get down on my knees right now for you,” he whispers when your eyes drift shut.

You take a deep breath and turn your head for a kiss. “I know, it’s only fair though. Besides,” you open your eyes to find the clock “we’ve gotta drop Lola off at Annie’s soon.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Annie had called you shortly after the party plans were made to tell you she’d just found out she was pregnant again.

“Congratulations! That’s so exciting!”

“Thank you,” She’d replied and then promptly began to sob.

“Or isn’t it? You okay?” You’d asked carefully.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She laughed wetly. “We’re so excited, it was a welcome surprise. We had trouble getting pregnant with Harper so we figured it would be the same. I’m just super emotional right now, I keep puking, and I just feel so bad that I won’t be there. I adore Sunny and I don’t want her to be upset with me.”

“Oh Annie, it’s okay. Sunny loves you, and I know she’ll understand. I wouldn’t want to be on a boat with a bunch of drunk people either.” You’d assured her.

She sighed in relief. “Thank you for not being mad. I’ll still pay my share and I was wondering if you’d like me to watch Lola? I’ll have Steve too. She was so good with the girls that day at the beach and it’s the least I can do now that you and Natasha will be taking care of the party.”

“You are not paying for any of it. We’ve got it covered. But yes, that would be great if you’d want to watch her.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Annie and her daughters wave you off from the front yard as the dogs chase each other.

The next stop is Bob and Sunny’s. You hand Bob a blindfold as Bradley pulls out of their driveway. “Put this on her for me?”

“Ooo, kinky! Are we doing this,” she gestures to Bob and then you two in the front seat, “again?

You snort and reach back to squeeze her leg. “Maybe…if you’re a good girl.”

Bob curses under his breath and Bradley stiffens while Sunny laughs.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“A cruise?! Seriously?! We get to stay on it overnight?!” Sunny asks excitedly, practically vibrating with excitement as you pull her blindfold off.

You laugh, “Seriously, and yes, two nights actually. C’mon, let’s go check it out and you can pick out a room for you and Bob.”

“Wait—Bob? The guys are coming?!”

“Yup! Javy and Mickey too.”

“Oh, this is going to be so fun! Makes sense why Annie wasn’t able to come, she’d be miserable.”

You murmur your agreement and meet the rest of the group, already on board.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The drinks start flowing as soon as you set sail and you follow the other girls below deck to change.

“Row, what’s this?” Nat asks, trailing her fingertips over your butt as you push down your shorts.

“God damn it, Bradley,” you mutter as you turn to look in the mirror. Sure enough, there’s a faint handprint still there. “Things got a little rough earlier. Consensually, of course.”

“Never knew Bradshaw had it in him. I figured he’d be more on the submissive side.”

You laugh. “He is, at least he likes it when I take control, but he’ll take the lead every now and then and it’s so hot when he does.” You sigh wistfully.

“That it is,” Sunny murmurs knowingly.

Nat’s head whips toward her. “What am I missing? You and Bradshaw…?”

Sunny looks to you for confirmation and answers once you nod. “No, he’s good-looking and all but I’ve known him since I was a kid, plus he’s not my type. But we…me, Row Bobby, and Bradley… had a foursome. Kind of, Bob and Sunny didn’t touch nor did me and Roo, well except when I slapped his ass.”

“What?! When?!” Nat asks.

“We dabbled the night of our engagement party and then took it further on your wedding night. It started with Row and me taking some uh….suggestive pictures to tease the guys with when you were deployed. They found out we’d made out back in college and it just kind of went from there,” Sunny replies.

“Are you…into girls?” Nat looks between the two of you.

“I’m not, not really. I find women attractive, but I’m not attracted to them, ya know? It’s the show for me, turns me on knowing how much it drives Bradley crazy. I did get really good head from a girl once though,” you say with a shrug.

“Same,” Sunny agrees, “Except Row’s the only girl I’ve fooled around with.”

“I get it. And Bob and Bradley? Did they…?” Nat trails off in question, slipping her top over her head.

“Yep, and oh my God, Nat-“ you start but Sunny interrupts.

“It was so hot. Bobby got all assertive and was bossing Bradley around…fuck,” Sunny finishes, fanning herself.

“I can just imagine,” Nat breathes, obviously picturing it in her mind.

“Okay, how noticeable is it?” You ask a few minutes later, turning once you’ve got your bottoms in place.

“Not noticeable at all. I only saw it because I was checking out your butt,” Nat laughs.

“Don’t blame ya,” Sunny agrees, eyes flicking down before meeting yours with a wink.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

“How did we get so lucky?” Sunny sighs a few hours later as you three lounge on the net suspended over the water.

You and Nat murmur your agreement, sipping your drinks as you watch the guys toss around a football. Between the obscene amount of sun-kissed skin in front of you and Bradley denying you release earlier, you ache.

“We’re not the only ones thinking that,” you say, nodding your head to the two cute crew girls also watching by the bar.

“Looks like Javy’s interested, he keeps glancing at the pretty blonde,” Nat observes and rises. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

She’s right. It doesn’t take long before Javy and Mickey make their way to the bar to chat them up. Bradley and Bob make their way over.

“You’re looking a little pink, do you want more sunscreen?” Bradley asks after he helps you off the net.

You look at your watch. “Nah, dinner is in less than an hour. I should probably go rinse off and get changed.”

You take his outstretched hand and turn to tell Sunny but she’s giggling at something Bob’s whispering.

Bradley takes your hand and leads you down the stairs, turning to devour you in the short hallway by the rooms. You can feel the hard line of his erection as he pins you to the wall by his hips.

You’re almost vibrating with need but refuse to beg, even when his hands trail under your ass and he lifts you, finally giving you some friction.

Just as he turns to take you to your room you both freeze, hearing a deep masculine groan harmonizing with a softer feminine one through Jake and Natasha’s cracked door.

“Harder Jake! Yeah, yeah…just like that. Keep going.”

“Always so fucking bossy,” Jake pants in response.

You hear a slap and Jake’s wrecked moan immediately after. “You love it.” Nat chuckles breathlessly.

Bradley’s cock twitches and your eyes meet his half-lidded gaze. He likes it too.

He presses you back against the wall and grinds his hips against yours to their rhythm. Your hands comb into his hair as he leaves biting kisses down your neck and back up to your ear, nibbling the lobe and treating you to the sounds of his own sighs and groans as he pushes you both towards completion.

Their hushed cries soon reach a unified crescendo and you shudder while Bradley tenses at the sound of their pleasure.

Your hands tighten in his hair and pull as feel your orgasm approaching rapidly. “Bradl—I’m…please? Can I cum?” You whisper desperately.

His shoulders stiffen and his hips stutter, but he finally nods as his cock pulses rhythmically, coating the front of his shorts with cum.

Your back arches off the wall and you bite your lip to keep from crying out as your orgasm slams into you, taking your breath away.

Bradley inhales sharply as you gyrate on him, quickly pushing him towards overstimulation but you’re too far gone to notice; the pleasure reaching from your head to your toes, overwhelming in the best way.

He presses slow, lazy kisses to your shoulder and neck and eventually to your lips when you come back. He pulls back with a cute, sheepish grin. “I’m sure glad I brought an extra pair of swim trunks.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

A/N: Well I checked off voyeurism/exhibitionism but I’m not sure exactly where I’m going (smut-wise) with the next chapter.

Tagging:

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@ingoaliesitrust

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

#bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #robert bob floyd #top gun smut #jake hangman seresin #bob floyd #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace #dom!bradley bradshaw

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shadowdancing-writes · 4 months

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currently ass deep in thoughts and fic ideas but god i really wanna bring biological dom/sub to hangster and the tgm universe

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #hangster #sereshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #dom/sub

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sailor-aviator · 4 months

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Two Birds Masterlist

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Growing up in the midwest meant that you weren't exposed to many of the dangers of the world, and it also meant that you missed out on some of what life had to offer. Taking a leap, you move to New York City with a few personal belongings and the little money you have left in your savings. You become good friends with your roommate and, by extension, the people at the club she works at. However, it isn't long until you catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses that rule the city with an iron grip. Will you stay out of their clutches, or will you give in and become another pawn in their wicked games? (Mafia!AU)

Series Warnings: Violence (Guns, Fists, Knives, etc.), Alcohol, Some dubious consent (reader is into it, but is coaxed into things), Sharing, Polygamy, Polyamory, Drugs, Threats (against others and at times the reader), Criminal Activity, Kidnapping, Torture, Murder, Cursing, Smut, Dom/Sub vibes, Fluff, Angst, Drama. Chapters will have their own individual warnings.

Just to be safe, though: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT! Seriously, there will be some VERY dark themes in this fic. You have been warned.

All posts related to this story will be tagged with "TB" and "Two Birds".

Meet our heroine!

*Denotes smut!

Masterlist

Series;

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two (Coming Soon)

Drabbles;

Coming Soon...

Want more Mafia!TGM? Check out:

By the Skin of Your Teeth by @goldenseresinretriever

Kingpin by @bobgasm

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coconutcordiale · 2 years

Text

up to no good

pairing- bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x female pilot!reader (callsign clutch) no use of y/n

an- my first fanfic ever! and it's just filth (lol) so 18+ minors DNI. top gun has a hold on me y'all. haven't even opened a word doc since college but the entire film basically lives rent free in my head and I had to write some obscene rooster so I could get back to functioning like a normal person. anyways *nervous sweating*

warning- seriously 18+, not beta’d, swearing, pwp (dogfight football is just an excuse for foreplay they knew what they were doing with that damn scene), unprotected sex, choking, edging, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, dom!rooster, oral (f receiving), rank kink if you squint, bruises, praise kink, dumbification, rooster is a leg man fight me, mentioning hangman during sex (yes this is a warning because jake seresin is sinful), the whole nine honestly I can't believe I'm posting this

length- 3.3k ish words

You silently curse Maverick for introducing the team to dogfight football as everyone trudges down towards the beach. Now, instead of working on your tan or napping on the beach for your one and only day off, you're being forced into athletic competition masquerading as a fun beach game. You like working out as much as the next pilot, but with one day off? You’d much rather spend it horizontal with your boyfriend than sprinting after him in the sand. Your gorgeous, half-naked boyfriend who's currently smoothing out his mustache in annoyance while he argues with Hangman about how they’ll split up the teams. You’re not sure who decided to make these two idiots team captains, but suspect it was born out of making sure they wouldn’t kill each other on the same team.

Rooster ends up choosing first, much to Hangman’s chagrin.

“Payback.”

“Wow,” you joke, your hand over your wounded heart for theatrics. “I see where your loyalties lie, babe.”

“Don’t be mad,” Rooster smiles into your hair before kissing your temple.

Pulling you into his side by the waist, he lightly skims his fingers across the part of your hipbone that always makes you shiver. The part that already has a bruise forming from his unrelenting grip this morning, while you were falling apart on his cock.

You glare up at him as if to say silently, don't change the subject, and he pointedly looks above your head to Seresin, pretending he’s not having flashbacks of your wanton moans.

“Hangman, go.”

The blonde flashes his signature smirk, stupid mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and reaches out to tug you from Rooster’s grasp, “Clutch, you’re with me.”

It’s surprising, of course. You weren’t actually mad at not being picked first, and definitely didn’t think Hangman of all people would be the one to do so.

“Bro,” Coyote grumbles. “No offense, Clutch, but what the fuck?"

Hangman shrugs in response, trying to maintain his poker face and not laugh out loud at the way Rooster’s jaw clenches. He knows having you on the opposite team is a huge distraction for mustache boy and well, he’d be remiss if he didn’t take advantage of Rooster’s ridiculous misty-eyed love for you, wouldn’t he?

Phoenix and Bob end up with Rooster too while Hangman manages to snag Coyote and Fanboy, punching Coyote in the shoulder for being so grumpy about not being picked first.

Not long into the game, Rooster has the ball, looking around for an open teammate and you see your opportunity.

As he knew there were no limits to your competitiveness no matter how much you complained about having to play, Hangman suggested you cover Rooster, so you’re already face to face with his very shirtless, very tanned body. You trail your hand across his abs, barely dipping your fingertips below his waistband. Subtle enough that no one else clocks what you’re up to, too consumed defending each other, but suggestive enough that Rooster’s attention snaps to you immediately.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, eyeing you suspiciously, hands still firmly planted around the ball that’s well out of your reach.

You flash the most innocent smile you can manage, “Sorry, babe, you just look so good. Couldn’t help myself.”

He beams down at you, completely disarmed and blushing a little despite his best efforts to maintain a healthy level of skepticism.

“Am I making it hard for my girl to concentrate?” He teases, arms faltering slightly.

“Something like that,” you grin, like the cat that got the cream, before taking advantage of his momentary lapse in judgment to snatch the ball out of his hands, swiftly turning and throwing it straight to Hangman by the makeshift endzone. He sprints through, throwing the ball to the ground in victory.

“And that,” Hangman shouts, practically banging his chest, “is why you’re never stupid enough to pick Clutch second, fellas!”

“Ruthless,” Rooster feigns hurt across his tanned features, fighting a smile at your cheesy finger guns. “Didn’t know we were playing dirty.”

“What, you think this is a fuckin’ game, Bradshaw?” You taunt.

“Oh, it’s on.”

You know you have to up the ante the next time around, without the element of surprise it’ll be harder to shake him.

You absentmindedly play with the bruise forming on your hipbone before the ball is anywhere near you and you can feel his eyes raking over the spot where your fingers touch. Fighting a smile, you adjust your workout shorts next, tugging them down the inside of your thighs where they’ve ridden up, fingers dancing a little close to your hot center for the public setting, but hey, hopefully no one’s paying attention. Besides, he’s always been a sucker for your legs, evident by how much time he spends between them. By the time he’s done staring and lifts his eyes to yours you’re smirking.

“Bradshaw, my eyes are up here.”

He doesn’t even bother looking ashamed, instead meeting your gaze with that filthy glint in his eyes. It takes everything in you to remain focused on the task at hand. You’re supposed to be sidetracking him, not the other way around.

You manage to sneak around him and catch the ball as Fanboy throws it your way, but you’re a little too far from the endzone to make a break for it without Rooster catching up to you. His dog tags are reflecting in the sunlight, resting against his hard chest and you smile, leaning in to grab them with your free hand.

Pulling him towards you by his chain so you can keep these words between the two of you, you adopt a comically casual tone, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like if you choked me with these, babe, I mean your big hands are more than enough but—”

“Nope," Rooster cuts you off tersely as he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder before marching in the direction of the parking lot.

You giggle, arching your back to toss the ball towards the group as best you can while still mostly upside down, and throw them a sloppy two finger salute, “See y’all later.”

“You guys are the worst!” Phoenix shouts after you and everyone yells in agreement.

He doesn't set you down until you're in the parking lot, immediately pulling you back against his front.

“You’re gonna pay for teasing me like that, princess,” he breathes in your ear, right hand sliding up your chest and to your neck as his left digs for his car keys.

“Oh no,” you drawl sarcastically, “That wasn’t what I was aiming for whatsoever.”

He can’t help but chuckle, even with his hand practically engulfing your throat you’re still playing him like a fiddle, teasing and pushing his buttons until he aches to put you in your place. He knows exactly what you’ve been playing at, but he still can’t help his primal response to it.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna wipe that bratty little smirk right off your pretty face.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you respond cheekily. “Was just admiring my gorgeous boyfriend all day. Always makes me smile, how beautiful he is.”

His fingers tighten almost unconsciously at his rank tumbling out of your delicate lips. And now it’s his turn to smirk, as he hears your breath hitch and feels you grind back onto his growing bulge. He unlocks the car and pulls the passenger side door open with his free hand, turning you around for a searing kiss before picking you up and setting you in his Bronco. He buckles you in, and you roll your eyes at the babying gesture, still in a fiery mood.

Shooting you a warning look for the eye rolling, Rooster gets in the other side and you begin running your hand up his arm, stopping to appreciate his bicep flexing as he turns the keys in the ignition. It’s almost innocent, really, but he sees right through you.

“No touching me or yourself until we get home.”

He bites back a laugh at your pout and settles his hand on your knee as he starts to drive. Which, you find out quickly, is much worse than not being touched at all, although you imagine that’s purposeful. He always knows how to wind you up while barely lifting a finger. You feel his hand burning on your leg, rubbing affectionate circles just south of where you want it. You shift in the passenger seat and the movement subtly urges his hand up your thigh, thinking he won’t notice as his eyes are decidedly fixed on the road.

As soon as he pulls up to a red light, he immediately removes his hand from your thigh to grab your jaw roughly and pull you into a kiss.

“You have to learn to be patient, baby. Keep trying to rush me and I won’t touch you at all,” he mutters against your lips. “Be a good girl for me.”

Your breathing shallows and you nod, both of you knowing as soon as that phrase comes out, you’re done for.

You’re crawling out of your skin by the time he pulls up to the house, mind on an endless loop of please touch me, kiss me, please do something, anything.

“I hope you remember your colors, because if I don’t hear the word red I’m not stopping,” he promises darkly, possessive hand around the back of your neck as he leads you into the house and to the bedroom.

He all but throws you on the bed, making quick work of your clothes. Stepping back and taking his time with his own while he admires you, naked and squirming for him. He watches patiently as your thighs press together, hands fisting in the comforter.

What feels like eons later, he settles on the bed, pushing your legs apart to fit his wide frame between them. Peppering kisses up the inside of your thighs, he refuses to put his mouth where you really want it.

You whimper in frustration and Rooster snickers at your exasperation before licking a stripe up your dripping wet slit. The sound that comes out of your mouth is positively filthy, doubling in volume when he slips one of those thick fingers in without warning.

“Fuck, baby,” It’s his turn to groan now. “You’re so wet. Surprised you didn’t soak through those tiny little things you call shorts.”

“Thought I was going to, been ready for you all day,” you grit out.

As much as you love his mouth on you, it’s not what you need right now as your cunt is aching to be filled. You untangle your fingers from the comforter to pull him up by the shoulders and attach your lips to his. Reaching down to palm his hard cock, you run your thumb across the slit that’s leaking with precum. He drops his head to your shoulder, panting as his control wavers.

“Need you in me,” you beg between kisses. “Please.”

You immediately wish you hadn’t said anything when raises his head to look at you, pupils blown but with newfound resolve and a smug grin on his lips.

“Greedy,” he teases, taking your hands from his cock and lifting your arms above your head.

He easily pins both wrists down with one hand, while the other traces down your body, taking his time palming your tits one by one, touching your hipbones with surprising gentleness, before settling between your legs once more. His fingers slide through your wet folds, pad of his thumb circling your clit and your head falls back against the pillows, body arching at the feeling.

He’s building you up, exactly how he knows you like, your inner walls already beginning to shake with anticipation, clenching around nothing as you get closer to the edge.

And then suddenly, he pulls his fingers away and you want to cry with how quickly you feel your climax disappearing into thin air.

“You’d let me do anything I wanted to you right now, wouldn’t you baby girl? You’d do anything to get my cock in that needy pussy.”

“Yes sir,” you whine submissively, even surprising yourself at how desperate you sound.

“No more Bradshaw and babe now, huh,” he mocks your cheeky tone from earlier. “Told you I’d fuck that bratty attitude right out of you.”

You wish you had the wherewithal to come up with a witty response about how he hasn’t even fucked you yet and could he get to it already, you really do. But before you can formulate half a thought, he’s finally pushing his thick member into you and no matter how many times the two of you do this you always, always forget how much he stretches you. How each time you wonder if he’s going to fit.

The only indication he gives that he’s as affected by this as you are is that there’s no time to adjust to his size before he’s thrusting, hard and fast and rough. It’s right on the line between pleasure and pain.

The moment he swipes the pad of his thumb over your bundle of nerves again you’re close, embarrassingly close. You feel your body tensing, winding tighter and tighter.

“Please, I’m so close, please let me come.”

You’re pushing hard against the grip he has on your wrists, to no avail.

He smiles against your skin, nipping at your neck before bringing his mouth to your ear.

“No.”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes as he pulls away the hand that was on your clit, slowing his pace to an unbearable speed and you feel your peak slipping farther and farther away.

“Please, Roos—" you start, trying to pull him closer with your legs.

“You know my name, princess,” he growls, pulling back.

“Bradley,” you moan, the hard edges in his words sending another wave of heat through you. “Sir—plea—I need—harder, faster. Ohmy god, please.”

You’re barely coherent and the evil part of him wants to push further, to see how long he can keep you like this, if he can make you lose your words completely.

He completely ignores your pleas, releasing your wrists so he can run both his hands down your body, stopping again to rub circles around the bruises on your hipbones.

“You think they’d believe me? If I told everyone how needy you are for me?”

You don’t answer, can’t answer because all you can think is please, harder, more. Instead, you’re gripping his biceps for dear life, mind still reeling from how infuriatingly slow he’s fucking into you.

“The team would never expect strong, hard-headed Clutch could act like this. Putty in my hands, whining and begging for me like a depraved slut.”

A loud moan leaves your mouth at that and he rewards you by picking up the pace, putting his weight behind his thrusts again. You’re staring up at him with glazed eyes, mouth parted and breathy mewls coming out in a constant stream as he continues.

“Seresin definitely wouldn’t. Can you imagine if I told him how pretty you look fucked out and dumb for my cock? He’d probably think I was lying, thinks you dominate the hell outta me. If only he knew the truth.”

You clench around him involuntarily and he smirks when he sees the blush rising on your cheeks.

“God, I do love having you all to myself, but it seems selfish not to share someone as perfect as you, darlin’.”

You tuck your face in his neck, unable to meet those playful dark eyes. He pulls out and flips you over, pulling your ass into the air and sliding back into you in one smooth motion.

He’s hitting that spot deep inside you, and you shove your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. You feel fingers tangle in your hair, tugging and arching your back as he pulls you up towards his chest, pace unrelenting. Bradley slides that big hand up around to your neck again, finally getting to pound you from behind like he wanted to outside of his Bronco. That seems like days ago, now. His other hand is circling your clit, quickly bringing you right to the brink once more.

“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock like the little slut you are.”

You feel like a rubber band, pushed to its limits and snapped. White-hot pleasure courses through you, finally releasing all the tension in your body.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” Bradley’s breath is hot in your ear. You barely register his praise, still shaking. “Wanna come inside your tight pussy and fill you up.”

You can’t help the obscene noises spilling out of your mouth, even louder than before as he continues to fuck you, relentless, while you try to come down from your high. It’s overwhelming, his thick length pounding your trembling, slick walls. His grip impossibly tight on your hip as he empties in you. The warmth is spreading inside, your walls spasming weakly at the feeling of fullness. He keeps his hands on you as he softens, fingers starting their dance in maddening circles on your overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“S’too much,” you slur, head falling back on his shoulder.

If you weren’t in such a daze you might be impressed on how he’s managed to make it his mission to continue ruining you only moments after his own climax. He’s completely supporting your weight, any sense of self-preservation having left you long ago.

He shifts, pulling out and you try not to whine too loudly at the empty feeling. You momentarily think he’s done with his torture, but then he lays you down on your back and puts his lips right to your center, fingers pushing his cum back inside you as it tries to drip out.

“No,” he lifts his head to say again, and you hate how that always sends a wave of heat right to your core. “You begged and begged to come. I’m just giving you what you wanted baby."

“Dunno,” you shudder, “if I can take anym—Bradley pleas—”

“You can.”

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone.

“You’ve been such a good girl. I know you can come again. Just one more and I’ll give you a break.”

He’s making lazy circles with his tongue, his pace the only indication there exists a fiber of mercy in his being.

Your skin feels tight as his praise washes over you. He’s fucking you with his fingers now, curling them while slowly increasing his onslaught on every nerve in your body through his touch to your core. You can’t help but grab his wrist, trying to pull him away from you as he blurs the line between pleasure and pain. You’re shaking uncontrollably and shouting his name, as you come again, sure you’re going to black out.

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he whispers as you clench around his fingers. He’s kissing your jaw, lips, forehead.

He gently pulls his hand away and wraps his arms around you, holding you through the aftershocks.

“You’re perfect, baby. Did so well for me.”

You smile up at him a few minutes later as he gently puts a water bottle to your lips. Ever the gentleman, you think, even after he’s absolutely wrecked you.

“We have to wash the sheets and comforter,” Rooster complains jokingly, when he’s pretty sure your mind is mostly functioning again. “There’s sand everywhere.”

“Yeah, you should get right on that, Lieutenant,” you mumble, planting your face in his chest.

He reaches out to tickle your sides lightly, “Maybe this Lieutenant will order you to do it for him.”

“It’s so cute you think you’re in charge,” you yawn, rolling over and settling in, clearly not making a move to get up.

Rooster rolls his eyes, forcing himself not to take the bait this time, instead pulling you tighter.

#rooster top gun #rooster smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster fic #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #rooster imagine #top gun #rooster fanfic #Bradley bradshaw fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic

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gretagerwigsmuse · 2 years

Text

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay [part 1/2]

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw has a thing for smart girls - and maybe ones who hate his guts on principle. a lie by omission is still a lie after all and bradley never exactly told you what he did for work...

OR you take on the us military industrial complex one hinge date at a time...well sort of

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, and slight dom/sub and praise and rank kink elements), idk basically she’s a bit of a brat? and he likes it? it’s kind of filthy, but it’s supposed to be kind of funny and a little silly?

A/N: thanks to everyone who liked the sneak peek and provided such positive feedback! but i really have to give a shout out to my buddy sol (desertsagecelestial) for being the absolute best sounding board with this fic! definitely check out her wip, it’s amazinggggg. anyway, enjoy! (9.9k) Part 1.5

Bradley previously hadn’t had much luck on Hinge, but after Phoenix had taken charge of his profile, specifically his picture selection, he had been doing a lot better. That being said, however, you were still the first girl he had actually met up with to go on a date.

Hangman had initially scoffed at the notion of Bradley’s Hinge date that night - god, Bradshaw you’re hopeless, don’t you know all the easy ones are on Tinder? - but had quickly changed his tune once Bradley had shown him your profile.

She seems smarter than you was all he had said and Bradley wasn’t so cocky as to not take it as a compliment. Plus, he liked smart girls. There was something about them. It didn’t hurt that the ones he had come across were always a little prissy, a little spoiled - a little uptight.

A little bratty.

You both originally bonded over going to UVA - albeit with quite a few years between your graduating classes. You worked for one of the Big Four accounting firms and had a job title that Bradley didn’t quite understand except for the fact that it sounded important. You both traveled a lot for work, were newly settled in the area and randomly New England Patriots fans.

Over the last few days, you had been texting frequently, starting off the day with your Wordle scores and a fun fact. It was cheesy and a little nerdy, but you were a big trivia fan - and San Diego County Barstool Trivia Champion - and Bradley had wanted to impress you. It was important that he impressed you.

Before heading out for training every morning, he’d try to find some new fact to stump you. His were always a bit nerdy, more random, while yours were always a bit more serious. Yesterday’s had been the tiny pocket in jeans was made for a pocket watch, while yours had been there are over 7100 islands in the Philippines.

Thankfully, the date was going well - really well, actually. You both loved history and had studied political science at UVA. Bradley couldn’t believe you’d had some of the same professors, even graduating eight years apart.

And he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping across his face when he got you to admit - begrudgingly - that you had been a Tri-Delta. Because of course you had been. All the smart, rich girls had been. And well, if one thing had been consistent over the years, it was Bradley’s taste in women.

That being said, he had been absolutely bowled over when you had shown up, pretty little sundress and all, looking even more beautiful than the pictures on your profile.

More to the point, though, he liked you and it appeared that you liked him too if the way you readily laughed at his jokes and kept brushing your knees against his under the bar top were any indication.

But it was about an hour into your date when the trouble started. Or well, maybe not trouble. A development, he supposed.

A minor divergence of opinion, really.

Nothing major.

“So, what’s with the bar?” you asked, looking around, a teasing smile on your face. Bradley cocked his head. “I mean, is it just me or is like every naval officer within a forty mile radius here?”

He shrugged. “Oh, uhh my friends and I like it. It’s right near the base and we normally come after training. It’s not too fussy, I guess, so I thought it would be good for a first date. Low key and all that?”

Maybe he had misjudged picking the Hard Deck. It wasn’t exactly the finest establishment in San Diego County, but the drinks were good and you had mentioned Coronado a couple times over text, so Bradley had thought it would be convenient for you.

In fact, to offset the location, he had even worn a pale blue oxford, unbuttoned but with a plain white t-shirt underneath. You seemed like the kind of girl who would have appreciated the effort. At least that’s what he had gleaned from your Hinge profile.

“Oh.” That wasn’t a good ‘oh.’ You even leaned back on your barstool. “You’re in the military?”

Bradley chose his next words very carefully, mindful that there definitely seemed to be a wrong answer here and he was about to give it.

“Yeah, a naval aviator,” he nodded, trying to sound casual, “is that going to be a problem?”

You shrugged and took a sip of your margarita before licking some of the salt off the rim. Bradley watched, captivated, despite the fact that you had just insulted him indirectly.

“I mean, I understand that we need a military - to a certain extent, at least. But I’m kind of against the whole US Military Industrial Complex thing? Like the US alone spends more on defense than the next nine countries combined. And the cost of one of those planes you fly could probably feed the entire New York City public school system’s worth of kids three meals a day for at least - well, I’m pretty shit at math, but I’d say at least five years -”

Holy shit. You were - oh, fuck. Before he really thought it through, Bradley went to interrupt you. “- I mean, when you put it -”

“- Plus, the whole imperialism, white man’s burden, manifest destiny bullshit you all like to spout out like Uncle Sam’s got your dick in his mouth. It’s a bit much.”

Bradley scoffed. He couldn’t help it. In all his years of being in the Navy, he’d never once had this sort of reaction. It was - oddly stirring, actually - finding out the woman he had envisioned every night before he’d fallen asleep the last few nights apparently now hated his guts.

“I get what you’re saying - to an extent,” he reiterated once he saw your pleased smile, “but the military still does a lot of good outside of combat zones.”

You laughed, but it lacked any humor. “Sure, taking advantage of impressionable kids with the promise of free college - that they probably won’t actually take advantage of because going back to school when you’re older than ninety-nine percent of your classmates isn’t daunting at all, to say nothing of the exploitation of foreign nations to further stock the US’ natural resource coffers - is a great business model?”

He ignored you and nodded towards your margarita. “Want another drink?”

“Only if you put it on Uncle Sam’s dime.”

------------

“So, do you just regularly lie to women?”

You were both on drink number two and the awkwardness of your earlier outburst hasn’t quite dissipated yet. The sexual tension on the other hand? If Bradley had thought it was high earlier, it was stratospheric now.

“What’re you talking about?” He hadn’t lied to you, to his knowledge, at least.

You crossed your ankles and clasped your hands in your lap. “On your profile, you didn’t mention anywhere that you were in the military? A lie by omission is still a lie.”

And you didn’t mention how much of a brat you were.

Bradley shifted on his barstool and subtly readjusted his jeans. “I’m not in the habit of lying to women…”

You scoffed. “Well, how do women normally react when you tell them you fly around in a $65M plane all day?” He’d never really thought about it. “Is it like a puck-bunny thing?”

“Puck-bunny?”

“Or whatever the military equivalent of a puck-bunny is?”

It was a tag chaser, but Bradley wasn’t about to tell you that. Not when he was imagining you wearing nothing but his dog tags, splayed out on his bed, while his tongue lapped against your dripping wet cunt -

“- Some women like it, sure.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “And you like that?”

Bradley shrugged. It was nice sometimes, but it definitely got a little old, all those guys and girls imagining playing the good little house-spouse waiting for him at home with dinner on the table, two kids and a dog running in the yard. That was more Hangman’s thing, anyway. Lately, Bradley had liked his partners with a little more spark, a little more fire, a little more substance.

A little more like you.

“It has its benefits sometimes.”

It seemed like you couldn’t hold back the bark of laughter that burst out of your mouth. But just as suddenly as you‘d started, you’d stopped. You rolled your shoulders back and then flipped your hair over one of them, giggling in an exaggerated manner.

“Hmmm like this? Oh, Captain Bradshaw, please take me for a ride in your big, big plane? Is there any way I can thank you for defending our country? No, sir, it’s just the cockpit is so big and I don’t know if I’ll be able to manage it. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of on leave. Yeah, I bet you just love that, captain,” you bit out the honorific.

“If you’re gonna be a brat about it, at least get my title right, sweetheart,” he snapped, the first time all night. He shoved his knee in between your legs, widening the space between your thighs just slightly. “It’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Oh, my apologies.” You shifted on your barstool and crossed your legs at your ankles, looking like the textbook definition of prim and proper. “You’ll have to excuse me, lieutenant commander, all this new information I’m learning about you has left me feeling a bit…overwhelmed.”

Bradley hooked his foot around your barstool and dragged it even closer to him. You let out a squeak and had to brace yourself by holding onto his shoulders.

And then it was like everything else in the Hard Deck had faded to the background: the jukebox playing Al Green’s Tired of Being Alone, the clack of billiard balls in the back corner, the King’s game on the TV above the bar. All Bradley could focus on was you - the slight rise and fall of your chest, the way your breasts were straining against the deep V of your dress, the smell of your floral perfume, and how your eyes widened at your sudden proximity.

And that was when he knew. Knew as well as the sun was going to rise tomorrow morning that you were going to fuck that night.

He hadn’t planned on sleeping with you on the first date. In fact, it really hadn’t even crossed his mind. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. But Bradley never fucked on the first date. Long gone were the one night stands he had indulged in during his twenties. He wanted someone who was smart, who put him in his place, who he could laugh with and have a real conversation.

Someone like you - military prejudice aside. And yeah, you made some…interesting points and he agreed with some of them. But, for now, Bradley wanted to see how far you both could take this before either of you snapped.

“You have any more questions for me, sweetheart?” He dragged his fingertips down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “Don’t like the thought of you being too - what was it again - overwhelmed?”

You let out a little whimper and then shook yourself slightly, seemingly stepping out of a trance.

“Hmmm have you ever taken a girl for a ride in that stupid plane of yours to get her to sleep with you? Seems like misappropriating government property would be right up your alley - lieutenant commander.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned back. “Can’t say I have. Bit of a stickler for the rules.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” you teased. “Do you have one of those nicknames - no wait, what are they called? Callsigns? Do you have one of those callsigns?”

Your legs were pressed tightly together, crossed at the ankles. He had a sudden desire to thrust his knee in between them again. It had been impossible to ignore the fire that had sparked in your eyes the last time he had done it.

In response to your question, Bradley hesitated, already knowing you were going to tease him even more. “Rooster.”

“Like the chicken?” You tilted your head. “Or is it a cock? I can never tell?”

“Why? You wanna see it?”

You rolled your eyes and knocked back the rest of your margarita, making a point to keep eye contact with him as you licked the salt off the rim - again. Fucking minx.

“I’ll be back, get me another.”

And without a word from Bradley, you spun around on your barstool, giving him the slightest glimpse of your ass when your dress rode up, and set off towards the bathroom at the back of the bar.

He sat there for a moment, his mouth slightly gapped open in - shock, awe, arousal? Because holy shit. The past twenty minutes or so had been some of the most sexually charged of his life thus far. There were times when he could have sworn one of you was going to leave - or worse, grab the other by the back of the neck and start dry humping against the bar.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” Phoenix hissed in Bradley’s ear, snapping him out of his daydream.

He startled and then gestured wildly. “It was going fine for a while and then I told her I was in the Navy and she started going on about defense budgets and misappropriating government property and Uncle Sam sucking my dick - I don’t know, Phoenix!”

She snorted and then seemed to realize he wasn’t kidding. “Oh my god - wait, we need to tell Bagman -”

“- Don’t you fucking dare -”

She ignored him and went on her tiptoes to lean over Bradley. “- Bagman, get over here,” she shouted.

Surprisingly, and without comment at the unfortunate nickname, Hangman came over towards the two of them. “What’s wrong, Bradshaw scare the poor girl off already? Probably escaping out the bathroom window as we speak.”

Bradley flipped him off, but it lacked any heat. He also signaled for Jimmy to get him another margarita and old fashioned then to close out his tab.

“She doesn’t like the military.”

Hangman whistled. “Tough, I’ve dealt with that before and trust me, it never ends well. Cut your losses and block her.”

But Bradley didn’t want to do that. His losses did not want to be cut - at all. He wanted to see how that smart mouth of yours looked wrapped around his cock. Or how prettily you sighed as he lapped at your sopping wet cunt. If you laughed easily or thought he was a good singer. If you wanted to try that new restaurant that opened in Gaslamp with him.

Fuck. He wanted you - desperately. And worse than that, he liked you. Liked how smart you were, liked your sense of humor, liked you. And some part of him felt bad for setting you up.

Because he hadn’t told you he was in the Navy. It wasn’t that he purposely didn’t tell you, he just hadn’t. And you were right, a lie by omission was still a lie.

So, yeah. You were probably a little validated in your ire. But god, if it wasn’t one of the hottest things Bradley had ever seen. Who knew a woman reading him for filth would be such a turn on?

“Nah,” Phoenix patted him on the back like you would a child who had just lost their first little league game, “I have a feeling Rooster’s going to see this one through.”

Jimmy brought over a fresh margarita for you and an old fashioned for Bradley and also left the check. He gave Bradley an encouraging smile and Bradley was glad Penny hadn’t been there to see - well, see whatever the fuck was going on with you and him. Because Penny would tell Mav and Mav would go all fatherly on him and tell him to be respectful towards girls, no matter your difference of opinion. He sighed.

“It’s like I still want to impress her - she just doesn’t -”

“- Want to be impressed by you?” Bradley nodded. “Do you actually like her or do you just like the challenge?”

“The challenge, obviously,” Hangman scoffed, “girl sounds like a bitch - guess she could be kinda hot, if she cut out that whole type a, stick up her ass shit -”

Bradley clenched his jaw and muttered: “- Fuck off, don’t be an ass.”

“Oh that’s right,” Hangman nudged Phoenix like she was in on it, though she looked almost as pissed off as Bradley, “girls like that have always been Rooster here’s kryptonite. Do you think that stems from your mommy or daddy issues?”

Just as he was about to go off on Hangman, Bradley noticed Phoenix’s eyes widened at something over his shoulder and he instinctively knew it was you. Fuck. He really hoped you hadn’t heard what Hangman had said.

“Just fuck off,” he muttered to both Hangman and Phoenix before you could get any closer. Phoenix sent a small, but kind smile your way, while Hangman just rolled his eyes and then they were gone.

You were quiet as you approached the bar, a timid smile on your face.

“Your buddies trying to get you to ditch me?” Your voice sounded softer, shy for the first time all night. “They scared I’m going to brainwash you or something? Make you drink my liberal tears?”

Bradley genuinely laughed and got a brief smile out of you. “Nah, they were more worried about me being too hard on you, at least my friend Natasha was - here,” he held his hand out to help you get back on the barstool.

You ducked your head as you muttered out a thanks. For the first time since your date had started, the conversation wasn’t flowing and the two of you sat side by side in silence having a couple sips of your drinks. Bradley kept thinking over what Hangman had said and hoped you hadn’t been able to hear him as you approached. Meanwhile, you rolled the tiny straw between your fingers as you took a sip of your margarita, thinking something over if the little crinkle between your brow was any indication.

You had definitely heard what Hangman had said about you. But that didn’t mean it was what Bradley had thought about you. He missed the you from earlier in the evening - the one who got the Wordle right in two tries that morning and relentlessly bragged about it, the one who he had made laugh so hard tears had sprang from your eyes when he told you about his run in with an old woman at the grocery store last week, the one whose entire face lit up when talking about something you were passionate about.

Sure, he liked arguing with you - and he was pretty sure you did too - but he didn’t want you to think this was a joke to him or anything like that.

Bradley took his eyes off the King’s game he wasn’t really watching on the TV above the bar and turned his body towards you. He said your name and lightly nudged your shoulder. Slowly, you turned your head, though not your body, to face him.

“Sorry about Hangman - Jake, that is. He’s not exactly who I’d go to for dating advice - pretty sure he hasn’t made a girl cum in about five years - something about seeing this girl for a couple months until they found out they were distant cousins or something?”

It wasn’t true - at least Bradley didn’t think so - but he got a small smile and slightly amused head shake out of you.

“Regardless of all of this, you shouldn’t have had to hear that, especially since I don’t -”

You fully turned to face him. “- Listen, Bradley,” you said a moment later, “I got dressed up for this, wore cute underwear, and even got a wax, so if this was a - a joke or if you don’t see this going forward in any way or - god, if you don’t even want to - look, I can just leave and we can pretend -”

“- No. We’re leaving.” He didn’t recognize his own voice. It was deep, commanding - dominant. And all you could do was lick your lips. “Now.”

With a smile on your face, you let him take you by your elbow and guide - read drag - you towards the exit, barely stopping to allow you to grab your clutch off the bar top. Knowing Hangman and Phoenix were no doubt watching the entire series of events unfold, Bradley threw his middle finger up over his shoulder, and then let the door close firmly behind his back.

It was quiet in the parking lot, just the hum of the chatter and music from inside the bar echoing across the pavement. Bradley held your hand as he walked to his car in the back corner of the lot. You approached the Bronco and leaned your back against it casually.

“So, what now?” You crossed your arms over your chest, inadvertently pushing your breasts together. “You gonna take me against the side of your truck like a big strong boy? Put me in my place?”

He took a step towards you, then another. He could feel the heat pouring off your body and watched the slight rise and fall of your chest.

“No, I’m gonna take you home and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight in the morning, that sound good, sweetheart?” You nodded dumbly. “And for the record, it’s not a truck, it’s a Bronco.”

You giggled. It was cute and so out of place considering what Bradley had just said to you. God, you were cute. More than cute.

“Fine, as long as you don’t take us on the 405 to Brentwood…”

Bradley barked out a laugh at your joke. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I doubt my charm is what got me all the way here.” You placed your hands on his chest. He couldn’t tell if you were going to push him away or pull him closer.

“You’d be surprised…” he muttered.

And then, before he could overthink it, Bradley leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. For all his thoughts earlier in the evening, the kiss was surprisingly tender. You tasted like lime and tequila and smelled like summer.

His hands dug into your hips, pulling you even closer and you let out a gasp - a perfect, breathy, little gasp against him when he pressed himself against your core. Your arms wound themselves around his neck and he in turn picked you up slightly and leveraged you against the door of the Bronco with his weight. You yelped at the action.

“Ooof - that was - god.” You cut yourself off as Bradley started peppering kisses down your neck, behind your ear, across your jawline. Meanwhile, your own hands were sliding under the collar of his t-shirt and oxford, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Now, sweetheart,” he says the term of endearment teasingly, “when you went to the bathroom earlier, you were gone for a while. Thought maybe you got lost or were busy with something else…”

You scoffed. “Please, I was trying to see if I could pick the lock on the bathroom window.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He started inching his hands up your thighs, higher and higher until he could feel the warmth radiating off you. Your legs wrapped around his waist on their own accord, leaving your barely clothed core pressed against the fly of his jeans. “But I bet if I slipped my hands underneath that cute underwear you mentioned earlier, I’d find this pussy soaking wet, hmmm? Lemme make it up to you? All those nasty things that bastard said about you - you know I didn’t agree with a single one, hmm?”

“I know - ohh,” you cried out as one of Bradley’s fingers slipped into your already dripping wet cunt, “god, f-fuck, Bradley.”

He clicked his tongue. “Uh uh uh, that’s Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw to you.” Even in the early throes of pleasure, you managed to glare at him. “Now, you gonna take my fingers like a good girl or not?”

You whimpered when he added a second, then a third. The stretch felt so good and you rolled your hips so he could get even deeper. You were panting against his neck, your feet barely touching the ground as Bradley fucked you with his fingers while his thumb circled your clit. Your breasts were heaving and straining against the fabric of your dress and he could only imagine what they would look like if you were bouncing on his cock.

“Who knew you were such a little slut? Fucking yourself on my fingers in a bar parking lot…”

“Bradley, I - ahhh, ahh - fuck, I hate you.” The words lacked any force behind them due to the moan you let out.

“Careful, sweetheart. I could make a real mess out of this pretty little dress of yours.” You found yourself nodding along, anything to keep him talking and keep his fingers inside you.

Bradley could feel you clenching around his fingers, which were buried all the way to his knuckles and absolutely slick with your cum. Fuck. Imagine if you weren’t so blissed out getting finger fucked and you could talk back at him? This time he let out a groan.

Maybe later.

“Bra-Bradley, I -” you cut yourself off with a moan that turned into a pitiful whimper. Your walls were tightening around him and he knew you were close. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to sneak a taste later.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a pinch to your clit, you came apart for him with a blissed out cry, tensing and then relaxing against him.

“Shh, shh, that’s a good girl, yeah? Such a good girl for me.” Your body was trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm and you tucked your head into his neck, breathing in deeply. Your lips grazed a sensitive stretch of skin on his neck and he hissed.

“Come on, look at me…” Bradley said quietly, but firmly.

Once you lifted your head up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, Bradley removed his fingers - carefully, so as to not make a mess of your pretty little dress. You whined at the loss, your pussy still clenching at nothing. He briefly brushed his fingertips across your lips to give you a taste of yourself, before he put both fingers in his own mouth and groaned.

You watched, transfixed, as he took them out with a resounding pop. “Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good - here, open up.”

You did as he asked and instinctively started sucking on his fingers. He noticed you subtly rubbing your thighs together and applied the slightest bit of pressure with his other hand, which was on your shoulder and inching closer to your collarbone and neck.

Eventually, you had to breathe and Bradley pulled his now clean fingers out.

“Good girl. Now why don’t we head home before you really make a mess?” You nodded and gave him a bashful smile. God, you were so fucking perfect - which reminded him - “but first, I want those soaking wet panties of yours before we get in the car.”

------------

The entire drive to his house was agony. Pure fucking agony. Bradley hadn’t been this tightly wound since his first deployment. Beside him, you appeared relatively unaffected, probably still experiencing the after effects of your orgasm, and were drawing invisible circles on your knee with your left hand. Your nails were painted bright red and looked sinful against your skin.

Suddenly, the Bronco hit a bump in the road and you both slightly jolted off your seats. You let out whimper, while Bradley was reminded of the white lace underwear shoved in his back pocket. He couldn’t wait to get another whiff of them.

The two of you rolled up to a stoplight, giving Bradley an opportunity to really look at you. The hand that had once been drawing circles on your knee was slowly inching higher up your thigh before it disappeared underneath the tiered skirt of your dress. You turned your head to look at him, a coy look on your face.

“Are we almost there? I thought you pilots drove as fast as you flew…”

He smirked, glad your spark was back. (Not that he didn’t like the little submissive display you’d put on in the parking lot.) “Almost there - don’t fucking tease me.”

With that, he swatted at the hand currently underneath your dress skirt. You pulled it back with a pout. “But Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, I’m wetter than the Middle East before you and your little buddies purged it of oil.”

At that, Bradley barked out a laugh and the light changed. He was still chuckling as he passed through the intersection. “I’ll give you that one.”

You preened. “Plenty more where that came from - don’t forget I still don’t like you…” You both knew that wasn’t exactly true, but Bradley wasn’t going to say anything to the contrary.

A few moments later, the Bronco practically rolled into his driveway on two wheels. Thankfully, Bradley had left the porch light on so the house wasn’t entirely dark. You looked at the house critically and he desperately wanted you to like it.

It was important to him that you liked it.

The three bedroom, craftsman house had been built in the 1930s, but had been renovated before Bradley had bought it when his official transfer to North Island had gone through a couple months ago. It was set back a good distance from the tree lined street and had a nice lawn that laid way to a wide-set front porch. You were probably used to the manses dotting the streets of Coronado or Del Mar, but Bradley liked the tree lined streets and sense of community he had found in South Park.

“It’s nice, Bradley,” you said with a smile, sincere for the first time in awhile.

“Thanks.” He ducked his head, not wanting you to see how happy he was at your meager compliment. “Now come on, sweetheart.”

Without another word from you, he slid you across the bench seat and into his arms and then opened the door and got out of the car. You sat there, a little thrown and Bradley sighed. “Well, if I have to do everything…”

“Wha - oh my - Bradley!” you squeaked in surprise, as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He chuckled and shut the door with his hip. “You - you oafish man! If you don’t put me down I’ll - I’ll -”

“- You’ll what?” He smacked your bare ass as he walked up the front steps and headed over to the front door. “Sweetheart, I don’t really think you’re in the position to be making demands.”

In turn, you smacked his back. “And you would know all about that - making demands. Hostage negotiations, CIA blacksites - mmmhh!”

He slapped you again and felt his cock twitch when you moaned. God, you had such a smart little mouth on you.

“Alright, now you gotta be quiet unless you want all my neighbors to see you like this - ass out, marked red by my hands. Is that what you want?”

“No…”

“Good girl.” You wiggled your ass and this time it was Bradley’s turn to moan. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

He fished his house keys out of his pants - accidentally grazing his hand against the pocket holding your panties first - and then unlocked the door. He kicked it shut and locked it, then turned on the light on the hall table before he even contemplated putting you down. It felt like you were trying to turn your head around or at least pick it up, probably to get a look at the place. Eventually, and with another smack on the ass, Bradley put you down.

Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place. You quickly tried to fix your hair in the mirror hanging above the hall table while Bradley threw his wallet and keys into a bowl on the same table and toed off his shoes. He briefly glanced at you in the mirror when his eyes fell on something reflecting light on the mantle in his living room - his gold plaque from the uranium enrichment mission was proudly perched for all to see.

Including you.

Bradley could already hear the teasing comments coming - what’s that? a participation award? - and resolved to distract you before you caught a glimpse at it. Luckily, you were both horny as fuck, so it wasn’t exactly hard to think of a distraction.

He slipped behind you and brushed your hair over one shoulder and started pressing featherlight kisses down your neck, keeping eye contact with you in the mirror the entire time. You leaned back against his chest and sighed, before you turned around and pulled him in for a kiss. He could have sworn he could still taste your sweetness from earlier when you’d sucked his fingers clean, but that may have just been wishful thinking.

Slowly, and without breaking your frantic kiss, he walked the two of you through the house and towards his bedroom. He only stubbed his toe once and you laughed against his lips when you let out a grunt of pain.

“Watch it, lieutenant. Thought you had your sea legs?”

He chose to ignore your comment and turned on another light, creating a soft glow in his bedroom. You took off his oxford, throwing it onto the chair holding other various button downs and Hawaiian shirts in the corner. Your hands slid underneath his white t-shirt, roving over his abs, dragging your short, but sharp nails across the skin. He groaned.

“Navy’s good for one thing, I guess,” you muttered against Bradley’s neck while your hands ran over his body.

He pushed you back slightly, so you fell onto the bed, propped up by your elbows. “Only one thing?”

You spread your legs, fully taking advantage of the fact that you didn’t have any underwear on. In fact, it was still in Bradley’s back pocket and there it would stay. “Well, that might not be not true. I bet you probably get loads of discounts and shit like that - wait do you have a J Crew discount? I can only imagine there’s nothing like getting rewarded for colonizing and exploiting half the world fuck - Bradley!”

You cried out when he grabbed your legs and pulled you to the edge of his bed. He’d perfectly positioned himself between your legs, leaving your absolutely glistening cunt on full display. Bradley would be - admittedly - shocked if there wasn’t a puddle of slick on the passenger seat of his car right now. You bit your lip, no doubt thinking you knew what he was going to do next.

But instead, he tightened his grip around your ankles and then let go of them a moment later, so you were sitting up perfectly on the edge of the bed.

“Awww, sweetheart. You didn’t think I was gonna go down on you with that stunt you played in the car, did you? Only good girls get their pussy eaten.”

You whined and Bradley figured you would’ve stomped your foot too had you been able. “Tell me - tell me how to be a good girl? I want to be a good girl for you.”

Oh fuck him. He’d come in his pants like a twelve year old if he didn’t hurry this along.

“Get on your knees.”

You didn’t have to be told twice and sunk to the floor in front of him. Your bare ass was resting on the backs of your feet while your dress fanned prettily over your knees.

He clicked his tongue. “While that does make for a pretty picture, I believe I said on your knees, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, lieutenant commander.” Your eyes were wide as you peered up at him and Bradley hoped you’d try and keep eye contact with him the entire time you had his cock in your mouth.

“Good girl.” He cupped your cheek and then swept your hair out of the way and untied the ribbon holding your open-back dress together.

Though your dress didn’t quite fall down right away, it did gape open to your shoulders and was easy to slide off the rest of the way. The ruffles and fabric bunched at your hips due to your kneeling position, leaving your breasts on full display.

“So pretty.” You ducked your head, but he tipped your chin back up so you had to look at him. “Knew you were hiding something under that pretty dress.”

You bit your lip, a genuine smile flitting across your face. “I bought it special for you - for our date.”

“Then I’ll try my best not to ruin it. Maybe I’ll aim for those gorgeous tits of yours instead.”

With slightly tremulous hands, you unbuttoned Bradley’s jeans and then dragged your index finger - with the fucking red nail polish - along the zipper. His cock practically jumped at your touch and he held back a groan. God, he was going to finish way too fucking quickly. Probably another thing you’d tease him about. (Oddly, that didn’t help him, if anything it turned him on even more.)

You pulled the zipper slowly and then started to pull Bradley’s jeans off, but he got impatient and did it himself. His cock was already erect in his boxer briefs and you just stared at it, a wicked smile on your face, for a moment before tilting your head up.

“Got to say, I’m a little disappointed. Thought for sure you’d have American flag boxers on.” You reached out to palm him over the soft fabric and Bradley couldn’t help but buck his hips into your hand. “Somebody’s eager.”

“Well, not everyone got taken care of in a parking lot…” He forgot the rest of his sentence because you had just slipped his boxer briefs off and his cock sprang out.

You licked your lips and peered up at him. “Bet you’re the pride of the Navy with this.” You leaned in and blew a stream of air on him and then pressed a light kiss to the tip. Bradley shuddered. You swirled your tongue around his cock, making sure to flick your tongue along the underside. He then gently guided himself into your mouth and you salivated more around him. He moaned - deep and guttural - as you fully took him in your mouth, while your head bobbed up and down. Of course you were good at giving head. Of course.

“Glad to know that smart mouth has other uses.”

You moaned and Bradley quickly realized the futility of his plan to try and last longer. He groaned and his shoulders sagged in pleasure as you worked him, hands doing what your mouth wasn’t able to as you grasped the top of his shaft and balls.

At one point, you changed tactics and hollowed out your cheeks and sucked. Bradley couldn’t help but bring his hand around the back of your head and buck his hips, getting faster and harder with each passing thrust.

“That’s a good girl, you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

The praise spurred you on, your enthusiasm only getting better with every passing second and Bradley felt that tell-tale tugging in his gut that he was close. It was like you had something to prove - you took him deeper, your hands became more skilled and dexterous, your moans more sinful, your eyes wide and eager as you peered up at him.

“Fuck, I’m so - close. I’m gonna cum.” Bradley said your name and your hands dug into his thighs. “If you don’t tell me otherwise, I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

You pulled back just enough to say: “Please, just wanna take care of you.”

And that did it. With a final thrust of his hips into your sweet mouth, he spilled himself inside you. Like a good girl, you swallowed everything he gave you. Every last drop. You looked so proud of yourself.

You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand and slowly rose from your knees. You were completely naked, your dress pooled down at your feet and he couldn’t resist roving his eyes up and down your body. God, you were so gorgeous.

You were both breathing heavily, but he didn’t hesitate before grabbing your chin and kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue. When he eventually pulled away, your eyes met, and he rested his forehead against yours.

“Fuck me, Bradley - please?”

You said his name. Not lieutenant commander or asshole or some other slightly condescending moniker. You said Bradley. As in you wanted him - the guy who had originally asked you out. The one you had tried so hard to impress all those days and nights spent texting.

And who was he to say no to that?

He grabbed you by the hand and laid you down on the bed, your hair fanning out on the crisp white pillowcases and sheets he had put on freshly that morning. You sighed as you burrowed your face in the sheets. “Kiss me.”

Who was he to refuse you? But instead of pressing his lips to your own, he went lower and wrapped his mouth around your breasts which had taunted him all evening, always straining to break free of that gorgeous dress now thrown on his floor somewhere. You arched your back to grant him better access and then wrapped your leg around his hip, digging your ankle into his ass.

His dick was hard again, pressed against your wetness, reminding him that he hadn’t touched you there since you had been in the parking lot. God, it seemed like hours ago.

“Bradley,” you sighed as he kissed down your stomach to right below your belly button. “Need you inside me - now.”

He groaned. “You gotta be patient, sweetheart. Wanna take my time with you now.” You whined, clearly not liking that answer. Bradley slid his hand between your bodies and started playing with your clit. You sighed and he then slid one finger into you, then another, crooking them both as he dragged them down your walls. He could tell the teasing was driving you crazy, but he kept at it, bringing you closer to your release and then pulling back before you could find it.

“Please,” you whimpered sometime later. It was a simple, one word response, but it proved to be his undoing.

Bradley slid his hand down to his cock, pumping it a couple times before he lined himself up and slid into you. You both moaned at the contact and Bradley started to find a rhythm that would suit the two of you. It took some direction from you both, but you eventually figured it out.

“How ‘bout you tell me more things you hate about me?”

You turned your head into the pillows, muffling a moan as Bradley snapped his hips to meet yours. “Ahhhhh, That Hawaiian shirt on your chair is - is abso-lutely h-heinous -”

“- Not like that.” He pulled one of your legs over his shoulder and you keened, loving the new angle. His dick plowed into you relentlessly and Bradley savored every thrust, loving the way your cunt tightened around him each time.

You grabbed his shoulders, bringing the two of you chest to chest, so you could pull him in for a kiss. It was frantic and hot, all teeth and sighs against each other. The feel on your breasts against his chest was another sensation he didn’t want to miss out on any longer. Fuck, you had gorgeous tits. The perfect size for him. Bradley pulled his head back, but didn’t slow his pace.

“Want my girl on top, want those gorgeous tits in my face as I fuck her.”

Your back arched at his words and before you could say anything, he flipped the two of you over so now you were on top. “Ohhhhh,” you sighed as you took his cock to the hilt before you started riding him in earnest.

You pushed your hair back and smiled down at him wickedly. “Do you know how many,” you started, seemingly just remembering his comment from earlier, “CO2 emissions that - fuck, Bradley, right there - that stupid fucking plane of yours emits ev - everyday? Fucking des-troy-ing the environment - ahhh,” you broke off with a sigh.

“No, tell me?” Your breasts were bouncing right in front of his face and Bradley reached out to grab one with his right hand, keeping the left firmly on your hip. He pinched your nipple and you keened.

“I - I can’t remem -” you panted, “- it’s a - ahhh, fuck - it’s a lot.”

The absolutely blissed out expression on your face made him groan. “God, look at you now, all cock dumb for me. What happened to that smart girl from before?”

You took a moment to gain your thoughts. “She wasn’t getting fucked so good back then.”

“So good, huh?”

“Bradley.” Your head was thrown back in ecstasy, but you still managed to get another question out. “How did you vote in the last three presidential elections?” He slowed his pace and you glanced down at him. “Wait, are you registered to vote?”

Bradley actually paused, fully in possession of his faculties. “You know, I don’t think I changed my registration over yet from Virginia -”

“- So help me fucking god, Bradley, I will jump off your dick right now if you -”

“- Obama.” Thrust. Moan. Pull Back. “Clinton.” Thrust. Moan. Pull Back. “And then Biden.” Thrust. Moan. Pull back.

“Good boy,” you just managed to get out before Bradley really felt himself losing control.

He wanted to - no, he needed to finish inside of you. He couldn’t bear the thought of flipping you over and pulling out, only to spend himself all over your stomach - seemed like a waste. Neither of you had the forethought to get a condom out of his nightstand.

“Are you on the pill?”

“IUD,” you barely got out, “Can’t have any of your military brats running around now, can I?”

Thank fuck. He wanted to come inside you so badly. Fill you up and then watch his cum drip out of you. God, he was so close. He just wanted to flip you over again, so this time you were on your back.

“Gotta wait a couple more dates before we start talking about kids, sweetheart - god, it’s like your cunt was made for me -”

“- Jesus fuck, Bradley! Just come inside me before I -” The most beautiful moan he had ever heard interrupted what was sure to be another diatribe of yours. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck -”

And then it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. With one final thrust, his orgasm crashed through him and he spent himself inside you. A moment later, you followed, your body briefly tensing and then you came with a cry.

You collapsed against his chest, spent - the two of you a sweaty mess of limbs and slick between your thighs as you both rode out the aftershocks. You glanced up at him, resting your chin on his chest, and gave him a look of pure adoration.

“There’s my good girl,” he said, getting a winning smile out of you. Somehow, you managed to pull yourself up and give him a kiss, less heated than the previous ones you had shared, but no less meaningful, before you rolled over onto Bradley’s other side and slipped under the top sheet.

You both laid there, side by side, chests rising and falling heavily. Fuck. Neither of you knew what to say - if there even was something to say. It had never been like that with anyone else - ever.

“I still don’t like that you’re in the military,” you said, not turning to face him.

The matter of fact way you said it made Bradley chuckle, which then turned into a proper laugh and you soon joined in.

“Sorry,” you said through your laughter, “just had to make sure that was clear.”

“And I’ll just try to forget you asked me who I voted for in the last election while I was literally inside you.” You groaned and hid underneath the sheet. “Just so you know, that was my honest answer. You can look up my voting record if you really want.”

You peeked your head out from under the sheet. “And you’ll promise to change your registration to California?”

Bradley chuckled. “I’ll go this week.”

“Good.” You smiled shyly at him and then propped yourself up onto your left elbow, peering at him curiously. “So, how do we really feel about the stache?” You brought your finger up to his mouth and dragged it across his mustache and then to his lips.

Bradley leaned back on his elbows and glared at you. “We like the stache…”

“Okay, sure, sure.” You scrunched your nose and tilted your head back and forth a couple times. “For now.”

“You’ll change your mind after riding my face.”

You pulled the bedsheet up higher on your chest, but tangled your legs with his. “Planning another round already, huh?”

He kissed your nose. “You know us military guys, ready with a moment’s notice.” You yawned. “Or maybe not…”

“Sorry,” you started sitting up, “I was busy all week with that project I mentioned.” He nodded, remembering the couple times you had brought it up earlier in the week via text. “And didn’t get much sleep. Anyway, I guess I should get going…”

Despite his best efforts, his face fell. “Oh. Right, yeah.”

“Yeah…” But you didn’t move. “This was -”

He scooted over towards you and laid his hand on your thigh. “ - You can stay here tonight - I mean, if you want to? Like by the time you get an Uber and then get back to your place - you’ll be out like an hour of sleep already.”

You glanced around the room and bit your lip. “I don’t know - I figured you didn’t - I mean, I don’t know if you want -” you cut yourself off, seemingly not wanting to say anything more for the moment.

“It’s no big, really.” You still seemed unsure and Bradley hoped he didn’t sound too eager.

“Okay - yeah.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Cool. Uhh is it okay if I just use the bathroom…”

Bradley nodded readily. “Yeah, uhh, it’s down the hall, second door on the right.”

“Cool.” You tiptoed over to the leather and oak chair in the corner that held Bradley’s mountain of shirts. You grabbed the button down he had worn earlier that evening and threw it on, quickly fastening the middle two buttons. “I’ll just,” you thumbed over your shoulder and scampered out of the room.

“I’ll be here,” Bradley said to the empty room.

Fuck.

-----------

Saturday mornings were one of Bradley’s favorite times of the week. He allowed himself to sleep in a little later - nothing crazy, just nine o’clock - and then prepared himself a well balanced breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast with one of those fancy cold brew coffees he had finally figured out how to make.

He so rarely allowed himself that time during the week - the ability to ‘just do’ and not over think everything. To do whatever he wanted. But that Saturday morning was different.

Because that Saturday you were there.

His arm was thrown over your stomach, leaving you close, but not too close to him. You slept on your back, while he slept on his side. Your sheets had barely moved during the night, still wrapped tightly around your breasts, while Bradley’s were half kicked to the end of the bed and half bunched between the two of you.

There were a smattering of bite marks across your neck and chest and Bradley wondered how the rest of your body under the sheet had fared. He stretched slightly, hoping not to wake you yet and felt a pleasing ache in his thighs. Beside him, he watched you shift slightly in your sleep and twitch your nose. He quickly shut his eyes, knowing you were waking up and didn’t want to be caught staring.

You let out a blissful sigh and burrowed yourself into the pillows on your side of the bed. As you stretched, your leg grazed against Bradley’s and you let out a little gasp and quickly yanked it away.

Figuring that was a good excuse to wake up, he rolled over to face you and let out a little groan of his own, but didn’t open his eyes yet.

“Morning,” he rasped as he opened his eyes. You were staring at him, looking like a deer in headlights. “How’d you sleep?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but didn’t say anything for a moment. “Uhh, fine - thanks.” You cleared your throat. “Do you know what time it is?”

Bradley rolled over to glance at the old fashioned alarm clock on his mid century modern nightstand. “Just after nine. Do you want -”

“- Oh. I guess I should head out then…”

He tried not to look too disappointed. “Oh, yeah.” He sat up in bed, leaning against the pillows piled up against his headboard. “Uhhh, I think your clothes are over there.”

You slipped out of bed, taking the top sheet with you to preserve your modesty he imagined, and made your way to the foot of the bed where your dress had wound up last night. You managed to put it on without letting the sheet slip and swept your hair out of the way to tie the ribbon at the back that Bradley had loved undoing hours ago.

Once you finished, you looked around the rest of the room, but avoided eye contact with him. He had a feeling he knew what you were looking for - your underwear.

He cleared his throat. “Uhh, it’s in my jeans. The back pocket.”

You went over to the pile of his own clothes on the floor and picked up his jeans, finding your white lace underwear in the back pocket, like he had said. For some reason, Bradley glanced away while you slipped them on. He turned back around and gave you a small smile, but found that you were already staring at him, an unreadable expression on your face. You shook yourself out of whatever trance you had been in and made your way over towards his side of the bed. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Look, I’m sorry, Bradley. But I don’t know if I see this as a long term thing?” You leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead. It was only slightly condescending. “But if you ever want to ever want to fuck again, let me know?”

And before he could even get out a response, you were gone, a trail of perfume in your wake and Bradley was half hard again. He leaned back against his headboard and let out a deep sigh.

Oh.

He had thought you’d both come to some sort of truce last night. You’d slept over for fuck’s sake. Was it so out of the realm of possibility that you would want to see him again? And for more than just sex at that? For a moment he just sat there, staring at his hands clasped on top of his duvet. Was this how every girl felt after Hangman did the ol’ two pump dump on them? It made him rethink every date or one night stand he’d had in the last fifteen or so years - was this how it felt to be ghosted? Wasn’t that what people were calling it now? God, it was fucking shitty -

Suddenly, there was a commotion coming from the hallway and Bradley belatedly realized he hadn’t heard the front door close. The sound of sandals slapping on the hardwood echoed through the house and you suddenly burst through his bedroom door, a giddy smile on your face.

“Oh my god, your face!” You giggled, looking downright gleeful.

The realization that he had just been had - mercilessly, truly he would never live it down - just hit Bradley.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t hide his smile or the relief he had felt.

You smiled in turn, looking carefree and beautiful with your messy morning hair and post sex glow. You took a couple steps towards him and the bed and he reached out to absentmindedly finger the hem of your dress.

“I think we’ve established that I’m actually hilarious.”

“Tell me a joke then - come on, right now. Tell me a joke?”

You tapped your index finger on your chin - once, twice. “Hmmmm, what about the fact that you work -”

“- For the Navy?” he finished with you. You nodded, that giddy smile back on your face. “Not your best, but we can work on that.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Smart girl.”

You hummed in response and leaned forward to play with his hair, pulling it slightly at the roots. “So you’ve told me. But I’ve been thinking, have you ever thought about a career change?”

Bradley sighed, humoring you. “Can’t say I have, but what do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

“Well, I think I could proudly fuck an astronaut - oh my god, Bradley!” You let out a shriek when he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto the bed next to him.

He leaned over you, propped up on his right elbow. “An astronaut, huh?”

You nodded, now laying flat on your back. “Unlike your obnoxious friend from last night -”

“- Bagman,” he purposely gave you the wrong name, hoping it would stick and you’d earnestly call Hangman that to his face the next time you saw him.

“Bagman,” you repeated, “right, well, unlike Bagman from last night, you’re actually very intelligent.”

“Oh, I’m very intelligent, huh?”

You ignored him. “You already fly in that death trap plane and can handle all the g-force so the astronaut training programs shouldn’t be - don’t look at me like that, all surprised I know what g-force is, I’m not an idiot.”

Bradley couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

“And -” you sat up in your excitement, “- now this is the most important thing - you won’t be actively contributing to the exploitation of foreign nations by exporting their natural resources for the benefit of the US economy.”

You looked so pleased with yourself that Bradley couldn’t help the proud smile from stretching across his face. “How about I think about it? That good with you?”

“That would be nice…” you tried to sound nonchalant about it, but he could tell you were pleased. “And what do you want in return?”

He scoffed in mock outrage and sat up beside you. “Me? Want something in return? Never?” You shot him an amused look. “Hmm, how about this?” He grabbed your hand and played with your fingers. “You go out with me again?”

A smile crept across your face and you ducked your head. “I think that’s a fair trade - provided I get to pick what we do?”

“Oh, of course,” he said with mock solemnity.

“Then I accept.”

You gave him a quick peek on the lips, but Bradley pulled you back in for a deeper kiss. You responded in kind, leaning into him and pressing your body against his. He wasn’t entirely sure how serious you were about this whole astronaut thing - he doubted you were - but he was committed to making this work between the two of you.

If your thoughts on the military were that important to you, then you and Bradley would work something out together. He wasn’t about to give up on this just yet. He wrapped his hands around your hips, right at the top of your ass, and you squirmed against him, never breaking your kiss. For a moment, he let himself get lost in a daydream with you, of him going off to space and you - hold on just a minute...

He pulled his lips away from yours. “- Wait, wait - it’s not okay for me to exploit foreign nations, but it’s okay for me to potentially colonize space?”

You straddled his waist, barely moving your lips away from his neck as you gave a reply. “Shh, shh, we can work out the details later…”

THE END

[Part 1.5] [Part 2.1]

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun smut #writing #bradley and smart aleck #bradley fic #top gun

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